


Invisible vs Indivisible

by Moirai



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Timeline, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-23
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2017-11-22 02:49:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 52,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/604981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moirai/pseuds/Moirai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The group of companions are ambushed at night by Orcs, who succesfully capture Bilbo. Fearing that their comrade is dead, the group moves on. Bilbo manages to escape by slipping on the ring and returns to the group, remaining invisible to everyone else. Seeing them mourn, he decides to keep the ring on until he finds the perfect moment to reveal himself. He learns some things in the process: He has earned his spot as a member of the group and, more importantly, Thorin Oakenshield intended on courting the hobbit. When Bilbo finally reveals himself, will the dwarf-king have the same desire? (Thorin/Bilbo to develop along with dwarf antics and quests) movie!verse</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I saw the Hobbit the other day and automatically wanted to come back and write a Thorin/Bilbo story. I figured it would be fun to have Bilbo follow around the dwarves with the ring on. I fell in love with some "Thorin courts Bilbo" fics and decided to throw little of that into the mix. The first chapter is establishing the story line. More fluff, angst and comedy to follow :)

They were not expecting an ambush during the night. Bifur and Balin were on watch but when Thorin called everyone in to discuss a route change in their expedition, everything went to hell. The attackers must have been plotting this for a while. Orcs were not known for their intelligence or their subtlety so it took everyone by surprise. One minute everyone was leaning over the map as Thorin explained their plans and the next, battle cries overtook the serene silence of the forest.

                The dwarves leapt to action instantly, their weapons in their hands and arrows notched in bows. Orcs were streaming out around them from everyone direction. Kíli got to work, felling some Orcs before they even descended upon the group while Thorin shouted orders for them to go back to back, telling them to not break ranks. Gandalf stood in the middle and started concentrating heavily, staff in his hands, muttering an incantation of sorts. When the orc ranks came closer, Fíli dragged Kíli back into the phalanx as they braced for impact of the enemy forces. Bilbo was standing unsteadily, his sword out and directly in front of him. Some of the dwarfs had been training him in sword mastery but he was still very much a novice at sword-fighting. Some of the dwarfs eyed him cautiously but the looks were abandoned when the Orcs poured around them.

                The dwarfs got to work slicing down the enemy, hacking at Orcs and Wargs left and right. They were looking to be in good shape. Thorin, Glóin  and Óin fell into a pyramid formation and were the most effective at felling their side. When the Orcs bore down on Bilbo, Kíli and Fíli flanked the hobbit and made sure to take the brunt of the damage. Dwalin, Balin and Bifur were in another pyramid formation, on the opposite side of the hobbit’s triad force. On the final side, Bombor, Bofur, Dori, Nori and Ori were both attacking Orcs and defending Gandalf while he worked on a spell.

                No matter how many Orcs they hacked down though, more would appear. The dwarfs were showing signs of battle wear with their deep breaths and minor cuts. No one had broken the ranks though and when Gandalf finished his chanting a large force emerged from the point where the wizard was standing and spread out. Bilbo felt a light push against his back but as the spell fanned out and reached the Orcs, it gained speed and pushed back the intruders. The surprised frightened the wargs and caused many to run away in fear and retreat.

                The dwarfs got a minute respite, taking the opportunity to either catch their breath or go on the offensive instead of the defensive. Kíli jumped out of the ranks and started firing away and the Orcs who were blown away. Bombor stabbed at some of the enemies alive at their feet while Ori and Nori shouted battle cries as they ran forward. Thorin was shouting orders again but Bilbo was more concerned with staying alive and avoiding the oncoming attacks of the Orc in front of him than the words that the dwarf-king was yelling. With a stab from his blade, the Orc fell and Bofur grinned at the hobbit.

                Everything was going well. The group was killing Orcs just as fast as they were spilling in. Although Bilbo was greatly overwhelmed by the number and size of the Orcs, he did his fair share at decreasing their numbers. He stabbed at their lower abdomens, moving on when they collapsed on the ground. The dwarfs took care of them once they were downed, stabbing them when they walked past. The groups of three were doing well and Gandalf was preparing another spell the last time that Bilbo turned around.

                Wargs were jumping over them but being stabbed mid-air or shot with Kíli’s arrows. The two youngest brother dwarfs were doing a pretty good job of killing the majority of Orcs before they even reached the Hobbit.

                Things took a turn for the worst when, all of a sudden, the Orcs suddenly changed their attack plans and concentrated their attack plans on Bilbo’s group of three. They were overwhelmed. The dwarfs tried to regroup and Gandalf did his best with skimming off the numbers but the fast change threw everyone off their guard. Kíli took a wrong step and found himself surrounded. He fought his way out but when Fíli went to help out his brother, an Orc rider reached down and plucked Bilbo right off his feet. Hanging from a black and greasy arm, Bilbo was hanging off the side of the Warg. Bifur made a run to rescue Bilbo, noticing first that the Halfling was being captured but it was not quick enough.

                “Thorin!” Glóin yelled, trying to direct the leader’s attention to their biggest problem.

                The dwarfs rushed the Orc rider but the opposing army had a different idea. The orc holding Bilbo was surrounded by a group of other riders and, suddenly noticing what the plan was, the orc took off at a full run, trying to escape the battleground. He brushed past fallen orcs, Bilbo hearing the crunch of the warg’s feet stomping down on their corpses, breaking their bones. It was all too unpleasant. The dwarfs were trailing them.

                Thorin was shouting battle orders to get Bilbo back, not matter the plan. Kíli was firing arrow after arrow at the surrounding Orc riders. Dwalin and Balin were the closest to Bilbo but were still a significant length away. Bilbo was yelling as he was carried deeper into the forest. The dwarfs eventually fell out of his line of view and, upon looking up, Bilbo was met with the ugliest face.

                The orc yelled to his companions, in a tongue unknown to Bilbo. Hanging onto the Orc’s arm, as he was dangling only by the creature’s grip on his jacket, Bilbo closed his eyes. Trusting the Orc’s strength for a moment, he let go and let his hands slip to his front coat pocket. The orc snorted and continued riding, looking back for a moment at his companions. Bilbo took his chances. His fingers came in contact with smooth metal and, while the Orc was looking away, he slipped it onto his ring finger.

                He could not take the chances of being eaten. He could not take the chances of being used as bait at Azog’s hands. If the dwarfs perished because of him, he would be unable to bear the burden. In an instant, his body shifts into the spiritual world. The Orc is still holding him up and, using the advantage of his invisibility, he contorts his body out of the creature’s grip by opening up his coat. He lets his body fall against the ground, hissing as his body is jarred against the ground. He has to roll a few times to miss an onslaught of furry legs.  He quickly dodged oncoming Wargs, coming at him from every direction, and moved to avoid the group of Orcs. Even though he was unseen did not mean he cannot be felt.

                A moment later, there was a significant amount of yelling. The Riders stopped and, knowing he was unseen, Bilbo stood there. The Orcs circled around and Bilbo made out the angry expressions. One minute he was there and another he was gone. Once they probably realized that Bilbo escaped and ran away, they darted forward.

                Bilbo was hoping for that. When they took off away from the forest, Bilbo ran towards it, not daring to take off the ring. It took his short legs a great deal of running to make it back to the forest. He kept the ring on, walking as slowly as he could back to the previous campsite.

                With the first view of their faces, Bilbo knew the dwarfs were incredibly upset. They were packing up their campsite, now ravaged with many Orc corpses and packing it onto the horses. The ring remained on as he listened to the dwarfs.

                “What shall we do now?” Bofur asked, tying off his blankets to the horse. The horse was looking skittishly at the Orc corpses.

                “The Hobbit risked his life saving me from Azog,” Thorin said quietly. “I have a debt to repay. I shall not ask for you companionship on this rescue.”

                “We will follow you, Thorin,” Fíli responded, arguing with the dwarf-king.

                Not knowing if anyone could really see him, Bilbo took a position behind a tree and listened. The rest of the dwarfs nodded along to Fíli.

                “Bilbo, our dear thief, is gone for the moment,” Gandalf swallowed and looked up at the sky pensively. It was growing light out, the night fading off into the horizon.

                “I have no doubt that they will use him for bait for Thorin. Azog is alive and wants his revenge,” Óin speaks up. His voice is grim.

                “They plan on doing no such thing,” Gandalf interjects. “These Orcs were unaligned with Azog. They were not of his clan.”

                “Why did they only come for the halfling then?” Bombur sat down, having his stuff all packed up.

                “Because he was the easiest to take,” Gandalf shook his head sadly. “Orcs are an awful sort. They look for the easiest source of food.”

                Bilbo swallowed, glad he had used the ring as an escape plan. The dwarfs, a ghostly white in this space, all had wide eyes at this point.

                “They intended to _eat_ him?” Kíli shouted, standing up with his hand on the hilt of his sword.

                “That is most likely their plan, yes,” Gandalf responds and Thorin unsheathes his sword and fastens the last buckle on his saddle pack.

                “I will not allow that to happen,” Thorin angrily grits out.

                Gandalf sits down and rests his staff against his shoulder.

                “The orcs are vicious. They do not discriminate warm from cold food. It may already be too late,” Gandalf shakes his head and sighs.

                “You do not wish to fight? If we can spare the Halfling the torment, we must at least try,” Thorin looks at the others who are nodding. “You could not have known this was his fate! Even you are not so cruel as to bring him along. Omnipotence is not within your power,” Thorin yells.

                “Fate changes constantly, Thorin Oakenshield. I can no more predict how someone will die than which leaf will fall next from these trees. You more than anyone should know the tides of fate, the ebbing and flowing of possibilities,” He eyes the king warily before closing his eyes and leaning against the tree behind him.

                “We must at least try,” Thorin tries again and Bilbo is moved by their desire to save him.

                “You will not master your quest if you leave to save Bilbo. They may already be picking the last bit of meat from his bones,” Gandalf keeps his eyes closed.

                “Do not speak of him as you would a scrap of meat!” Kíli interjects.

                “We all turn into such base things as that, Kíli. Such is the fate of all mortal lives,” Gandalf calmly comments. “You must weight your options, Thorin. If you leave to save Bilbo, who is very likely already dead, you will fail your quest. Erebor will be lost again. The treasure will disappear. Your hope for permanence will distinguish,” Gandalf looks to the king.

                “You once told me that without our hobbit, we had no chance of succeeding,” Thorin argues.

                “Fate has flowed in an opposite direction it seems. Another doorway has opened,” Gandalf smiles and opens his eyes, looking straight for the forest line where Bilbo was standing. Bilbo had the strongest belief that Gandalf could see through the ring’s disguises. He could see through the charm of invisibility. Or maybe, Gandalf could see a future path where Bilbo would return. It was supposed to be prophesized at the very least.

                Thorin turns around and tugs at his hair. The others dwarfs remain motionless. Glóin and Óin exchange looks while Nori, Dori and Ori shuffle back and forth from foot to foot. After a long, silent moment Thorin turns around. With a piercing and gut-wrenching scream, Thorin brings his sword up as far as he can and shoves the blade deep into the earth. He falls to his knees, letting the scream die on his lips. The rest of the dwarfs look back and forth before getting down and kneeling in front of their king. They remove their hats, put them to their chest and bow their heads.

                Bilbo knows this is some way of mourning.

                “He would have wished for us to carry on,” Thorin mumbles. “He was a brave halfling,” The king’s eyes meet the sky. “If there is any mercy left for our quest, may it have been granted to him in his death. He deserves, at the very least, a swift and painless end. To Bilbo Baggins,” Thorin lifted his sword out of the ground and pointed the blades up. The rest of the group does the same.

                “To Bilbo Baggins,” the rest copy and some of them shed a tear or two for their fallen companion.

                Bilbo watched with heart-wrenching sadness. He felt, at times, like he did not belong to the quest but he was mistaken. The dwarfs cared for him like any other companion of their expedition.

                They all rise onto their feet. “We must get going or we will certainly face another attack,” Thorin looks at his dwarf companions.

                They nod before finishing packing. Gandalf walks over to the corner where Thorin is looking depressed as he checks his equipment.

                “It is of our race to grant a proper burial to our fallen and I hoped we would be allowed the same privilege with Bilbo’s remains,” Thorin whispers and Bilbo barely picks it up. “His bones do not deserve to be thrown into a pile with food scraps and Orc mess. He saved my life. I have failed to do the same,” Thorin sheathes his sword and glances to Gandalf.

                “He wished for you to reclaim your home and, now, we must carry out his wish. Hobbit bones are distinctly shaped. If someone finds them, they will give him a proper burial,” Gandalf places a hand on Thorin’s shoulder.

                “Ay, but none like he would have deserved. Not one like we would have given him. I would have buried him at the steps of Erebor to guard our city with his memory or I would have returned him to the shire so he could rest once more at the foot of his dwelling,” The king shakes his head and Gandalf’s hand drops. “I am sorry, Thorin..” He apologizes but the king shakes his head.

                Bilbo is standing in the forest, practically sobbing.

                “No one could have predicted this, friend. You are right, too. It is a thing we must remember on this quest. We are all mortal here and death is an inevitable ending for all things. Permanence is an illusion,” Thorin shakes his head and heads off towards the forest. He is heading towards where Bilbo is standing.

                When Thorin enters the trees, Bilbo trails behind him closely. Thorin stops and rests against a tree. Tendrils of light are making their way through the tree-tops and the forest floor is speckled with incoming rays of light. Thorin’s face has tiny dots of light illuminating the dirt and sadness.

                After a few minutes, a few footsteps are heard and Fíli emerges from the branches.

                “Uncle..” He starts and Thorin looks up. He lets his eyes flick over to the other end of the log he is sitting on and tilts his head for Fíli to sit down. “I am sorry for what has befallen us today. No one could have known that this were to happen,” Thorin nods and smiles lightly before looking skyward.

                “I did not think we were going to lose a member of our group so close to the beginning of our journey. I hoped, at the very least, for a proper burial. I am sure Bilbo would have loved Erebor,” Thorin smiles.

                “He did indeed like seeing new things,” Fíli nodded and frowned once more. “Are you able to continue on?”

                “I have lost much more and still continued on, Fíli,” Thorin pats the young dwarf’s knee.

                “Yes, uncle.. but you have never lost someone you were intending on courting,” Fíli smiles and looks right at the king’s face.

                Bilbo takes a step back and swallows. _Courting?_ The dwarf king of the lost Erebor wanted to court a hobbit? He wanted to court Bilbo? Surely it meant the same thing to dwarfs as it did to hobbits.

                Bilbo wanted nothing more than to ask the dwarfs himself. He wanted to slide off the ring and shout to all of Middle-Earth that he is still alive. He would never be able to explain it through and the thought of confessing that he was spying on the dwarfs, just to gauge their reaction truly scared him. He kept the ring on.

                “It is a shame I was never able to,” Thorin hung his head. “There is no use dwelling over would could have happened. We will reclaim Erebor in the memory of Bilbo. We will not let him die in vain,” Thorin stood up and offered a hand to his nephew. “Has the group sustained any injuries?” He asks, concern painting his voice.

                “Dwalin has a wound on his leg, Bombur on the face. Dori and Nori are a little bruised up. Bifur is wearing a new set of teeth on his thigh and Kíli has a vicious wound on his upper arm. Nothing mortally wounding or a threat,” Fíli smiles.

                “Good,” Thorin let a half-smile grace his face. “Go! Tell the others to prepare to set out in a few minutes. I need a moment to myself,” Thorin squeezes Fíli’s shoulder before pushing him out of the woods.

                Bilbo does not know what to do. He cannot just take off the ring now. At the same time, he does not want the dwarfs to carry along the sadness of his death. Bilbo sits down and ponders his options. Thorin is pacing but remaining silent.

                Bilbo concocts a plan. He cannot reveal himself just yet. He will tail the group for a little while, waiting for the best moment to reveal himself.

                He must have Thorin explain the whole ‘courting’ thing after all. 


	2. Where there's life, there's hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo continues to follow the group while remaining invisible with the ring on. However, a few complications arise. He has no horse now. Also, the ring has a tendency of slipping off, undetected, leaving Bilbo visible and vulnerable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for the positive regard! I went to bed right after posting and woke up to many pleasant comments and kudos! :)   
> Some things to address:   
> 1.) I have not read the books in a very long time therefore, and I'm sorry for not specifying, this is Movie!verse. I have seen all of the LOTR movies and love them in an unnatural way.   
> 2.) I prefer, as Tolkien did, the plural of "dwarf" as "dwarfs". It's just a writing preference, not a mistake.  
> 3.) Sometimes I am too lazy to use accent marks and therefore some will be absent.   
> 4.) I recently went back and looked up the specific history of dwarfs, hobbits and the ring so I made some editing changes to the first chapter. Nothing significant, just a few detail changes.  
> I am trying to look for someone to proofread by chapters but until then, I apologize for any errors. I'm working on ways to mimic Tolkien's language as well. (It is difficult!)   
> \- I appreciate all the kudos and comments, you guys are amazing.   
> Hints at Thorin/Bilbo in this chapter but I need to tie up some problems in this entry! :)

As Thorin sauntered back to the campsite to consult with the other dwarfs, Bilbo realized that he was facing down a potential problem. When normally travelling with his companions, Bilbo would ride atop a pony and would keep up a rather decent pace. Now that he was under the power and disguise of the ring, he would have no means of fast travel. Bilbo was left with an ultimatum. He faced the choice between stealing a mount from his group to maintain his pace or to abandon his disguise, and the power of the ring, and release the details surrounding his disappearance. Neither option seemed particularly pleasant to the Halfling, but Bilbo surmised that one was, naturally, better than the other.

                Using the last threads of darkness to his advantage, Bilbo trotted around the campsite and made his way over to where the horses were tied up. Still skittish from the recent orc invasion, some were shaking where they stood while others were flicking their eyes back and forth, analyzing for probable threats. Seeing his own horse, Bilbo reached out to place a hand upon his head, right between the eyes. Suddenly, the horse reared up on its hind legs and let out a whiney that averted all the eyes of Thorin and his company to the spot upon which Bilbo stood.

                “The horses are spooked,” Kíli comments and Thorin, the dwarf king, rises from his seat and makes his way over to the downed tree to which the horses are tied off.

                Bilbo mentally berates himself for the mistake. He is currently under the ring’s power so the horses are not able to see him. When he placed his hand upon the horse’s head, the horse felt only the touch of an invisible being. Seeing no one in front of him, he was easily spooked. To avoid being discovered, Bilbo backs off into the woods behind the horses and watches as Thorin approaches.

                “Calm,” Thorin demands as he walks toward the horse, hand extended towards the rearing steed. The horse jumps up and down a few times before settling down and whinnying unpleasantly. He shakes his head several times and exhales audibly. “What has you spooked?” Thorin asks, grabbing the reigns of the horse and pulling his head down so the horse and he are eye to eye.

                “He must know that his previous rider is gone,” Nori approaches the horse from the front and moves back to stroke the horse’s side. “What shall we do with him?”

                “I would like nothing more than to set him free. He has served us well and we have no further use of his services. However, with Orcs in such close proximity, it is not safe. I will not have him follow his rider in death,” Thorin pets the horse’s face and the horse calms down. “Tie him off to another steed and we will find an appropriate place to set him loose,” Thorin pats the horse one last time before walking back to the camp with the others.

                “Come, I wish to speak to the group before we depart,” Nori nods and follows his lead.

                Making sure that the group is far enough out of eye-sight, Bilbo slides the ring off his finger and back into his pocket. He breaths out, feeling an unconscious weight lift off his shoulder and his soul. He steps out from the forest and his horse, now calm, grunts and lifts his head towards Bilbo. The Hobbit presses a single finger to his lips and walks up to untie the reins of the horse. The entire time, he keeps his attention on the group of dwarfs. After noticing that no one is looking in his direction, Bilbo backs off into the woods, bringing his horse with him.

                When they are out of eye-sight,  Bilbo stops to face his horse. The creature looks displeased and irritated. Bilbo smiles and pets the horse for a little while before tying him off to a tree. He stands in front of the horse and slips the ring out of his pocket. He holds up the gold band for the horse to see. The horse backs off a few steps and watches quietly. Bilbo slips on the ring and disappears. The horse makes a distressed sound before calming down. Bilbo walks up and puts a hand on the horse’s face. Again the horse whines uncomfortable. Bilbo slips off the ring and looks at the horse. The horse again makes a noise but tilts his head at Bilbo. Bilbo steps back and holds up the ring again. Once more, he slips it on. The horse shows less of a reaction. He repeats the procedure until he knows that his horse has worked out the trick. When the ring is on, Bilbo is invisible.  After a few attempts, the horse is acclimated to the change and lets Bilbo climb atop his back. Bilbo smiles and directs the steed back to the campsite. When he reaches the edge of the forest, just as the dwarfs are looking away, he lets the reigns drop and his horse walks a few steps forward, out of the woods, before standing still.

                Bilbo waits silently, patting his horse a few times as he sits quietly.  Eventually, as he was hoping for, the dwarves approach the horses, ready to depart.  Dwalin is the first to notice that Bilbo’s horse is untied. He approaches the horse cautiously before grabbing his reins and pulling him forward. Bilbo smiles in anticipation.

                “Bilbo’s horse was untied,” Dwalin scratches his beard.

                “He did not flee?” Bofur inquires and Dwalin shakes his head.

                “He stood at the foot of the forest and planted himself there,” Dwalin comments. Thorin reaches out for the reins, not uttering a word as Dwalin hands them over.

                “Here,” Thorin comments as he ties off Bilbo’s horse to his own. “We will have him follow us.”

                Bilbo smiles the kind of grin a Halfling would give if his plans were unfolding, exactly to his plans.

                “Let us depart,” Thorin demands and the rest of the company nods in agreement. “There has been nothing but despair in this site.” A frown graces the face of the dwarf king. He urges his horse forward and leads the company out into the forest.

                There are only a few words exchanged between the members of the company. A general silence reigns over the group. Everyone lets their eyes wander back and forth, scanning the forest. Bilbo’s horse seems rather content to let the hobbit ride on his back while being directed forward by Thorin’s horse. Bilbo makes sure to keep himself completely quiet as to not be seen by the group. Thorin is close to him as his horse follows the king’s.  He can make out the features on his armor, the braids alongside his face and the knots in his hair. The ride is uncomfortable but Bilbo is happy to have worked out his problems regarding transportation.

                _How does someone such as Thorin wish to court a simple hobbit as myself?_ Bilbo wonders.

                Thorin has a deathly grip on his reins, his fingers turning a pale white, even in the standards of the spirit world.

                The group rides on for hours, the rising sun eventually making its way across the sky, reaching the midpoint and starting its descent,  but they do not find a way out of the forest. Eventually they reach the edge of a large mountain of dirt, emerging from the ground with its base covered in mossy grass. It rises up as solid rock, producing an overhead shelter which is ideal for a resting spot.  Thorin notices this almost instantly and calls for a break and for the group to set out for fire and food.

                Kíli, Fíli, Glóin  and Balin head out to hunt for food while the rest of the dwarfs set up camp. After his horse is tied up, Bilbo slides of his back and silently touches the ground. He gives the horse a pat, eliciting a grunt from his steed and silently pads over to the group situated at the camp. Thorin stares off into the forest before regaining his footing and heading off to walk among the trees. Bilbo follows after, careful to maintain a careful distance behind.

                Bilbo is feeling a little shaky now, not because of the long journey but because of some unknown reason he feels within his bones. His breath is a little harsh now and his head is swimming with weird thoughts. He drops back, letting Thorin walk ahead of him. Bilbo closes his eyes to rest for several minutes before reopening them. He hears breaking twigs in the distance and all in a moment, an arrow comes whizzing past his head, coming from the direction where his back is facing. Bilbo doesn’t think and instead, takes off, running full speed. Another arrow comes down in his direction, at which point, Bilbo starts zigzagging to avoid being shot. His feet crash down on twigs and he tries his hardest to stay quiet.

                _How is someone able to see me?_ Bilbo thinks as he runs

                His pace quickens as the arrows continue to fly in his direction. His hands move forward as he propels his body out of danger. He suddenly stares down at his fist and is surprised to see it in full color. Now that he thinks about, Bilbo realizes the forest is full of color rather than a dull and muted gray. He escaped the spirit world! Bilbo gasps and looks down, seeing his ring finger completely devoid of any gold.

                _It must have fallen off!_ Bilbo is terrified and an arrow launches into the ground next to him, only two inches away from his foot. Taking a second to notice the design, he notices it is an arrow of dwarf design. The group is hunting him down.

                Bilbo makes an effort to circle back and try to find the ring that he does not remember dropping. His eyes scan the ground as he runs. The arrows continuously try to find him. He is gasping for air, his heart racing within his chest.

                After what feels like an eternity of running, Bilbo sees a gold circle glimmering on the ground. He throws himself on the earth to grab it, trying to avoid any arrows. He hears the sound of feet and he grabs the ring as he turns over on the ground. Just as Fíli emerges from the trees, Bilbo slips on the ring and returns to the spirit realm.

                As it surrounds his finger, Bilbo realizes that it is a very snug fit. He even shakes his hand and discovers that the gold ring simply does not fly off. He has no possible explanation as to why it could have slipped off without his knowledge.

                Bilbo’s eyes meet Fíli’s. Balin, Glóin and Kíli emerge a short second after, each frowning and out of breath. Fíli has a look of surprise and horror on his face, staring at the spot where Bilbo disappeared. Bilbo is sending up a silent hope that the dwarf did not see him. Bilbo silently stand up and backs off, noticing that Fíli’s eyes stay on the spot where Bilbo last disappeared.

                “Did we miss it?” Balin asks, disappointment tainting his voice.

                “None of my arrows are missing,” Kíli comments, walking over and grabbing the last arrow and shoving it in his quiver. “I have better aim than that,” He smirks. “The creature must have been rather agile.” The dwarf brother’s meet gazes.

                “You look like you have seen a spirit!” Kíli comments, looking towards Fíli.

                “I…” The dwarf stutters. “ I could have sworn my eyes met…” Fíli stops his sentence.

                “What did you see, brother?” Kíli places a hand on his brother’s shoulder.

                “I could have sworn that my eyes met the image of a halfling.”

                The group is silent before Balin shrugs.

                “The forest deceives many a mortal,” Glóin comments and shakes his head. “Are you certain that you saw a halfling?”

                “He was as real as the trees in front of us and the ground beneath my feet,” Fíli’s face is still marked with surprise and he walks forward, stepping on the spot where Bilbo last put on the ring. “He was here for a minute and then he fell into shadow. I could have also sworn…” He stops talking. “But it cannot be.”

                “What cannot be?” Balin questions.

                “Why, I could have sworn that the image looked exactly like Bilbo Baggins!” Fíli remarks and the rest of the group look at him with matching looks of surprise. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please do not hate me for the cliff-hanger. I will have a new chapter out as soon as I can. I appreciate reviews, comments, criticism and kudos very much! I am always looking to better my writing. I will update as frequently as time allows.


	3. The Road Goes Ever On and On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fíli is quite certain that he spotted Bilbo Baggins in the woods. The others are not as convinced. Bilbo learns an important lesson to remember where he leaves his items and emotions reach an ultimate rise. Can Bilbo keep up the charade and remain unseen or will a hidden sense of devotion and desire cause him to throw off his disguise and tell everyone that he is alive?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really love you guys. Thank you so much for all the comments and kudos. I did not want to leave the cliff-hanger hanging on too long so... here you go! Warning: angst ensues.

                Silence seems to envelop the forest once again. Kíli, Fíli, Glóin and Balin just stand like statues, exchanging glances. Bilbo does not dare to move let alone breathe too deeply.

                “It is the grief,” Glóin places a hand on Fíli’s shoulder. “He was carried away by the Orcs. A hobbit could not have escaped a fleet of their size. Come,” He pulls the dwarf along. “Let us scrounge around for some food and let us not mention this to Thorin.” Fíli nods, following the rest of the dwarfs as they turn away.

                As they walk away, the panic that has been building up in Bilbo gradually subsides. The hobbit falls to his feet and listens, allowing his mind to convince his body that he is in no immediate danger. His breathing stills and when the forest is quiet except for the sound of rustling leaves and stirring creatures, Bilbo slides off the ring and stares at it.

                “How did you run off?” He asks the ring before laying completely down on the ground, his head looking up, past the tree tops and into the sky. He knows he needs to rest for a while. He slips the ring into his pocket and simply breathes in and out, letting his muscles relax and his brain stop whizzing about. “It is a rather unfortunate circumstance to be dead,” Bilbo comments again, to no one other than himself and the ever-watching trees.

                The last moments of light are fading and Bilbo predicts that it is no longer safe to remain visible in the middle of a forest without his dwarf companions. He does not want to bear the burden of wearing the ring any longer so he simply remains extra vigilant and silent as he makes his way to the outskirts of the camp. Honestly, Bilbo does not know how much longer he can remain dead. His stomach is growling from hunger and dead men cannot hunt for food. He sees the flicker of flames from a fire and slips back into the camp. The dwarfs are gathered around the fire, cooking up an unknown meat and, with light feet, Bilbo makes his way over to the ring of people and takes a seat in an open area. He does not feel comfortable sleeping with the ring on and his stomach is protesting for missing nearly six meals.

                Bilbo contemplates his options while watching the dwarves and Gandalf. There are all staring at the fire and dispersing food. A thought comes into Bilbo’s head and he stands up once more, making his way over to his horse. Upon arrival, Bilbo shakes the reins of the horse lightly in order to alert the steed to his presence.  The horse lifts his head up and down a few times and when Bilbo places a hand on his side, he does not stir. Bilbo makes sure no one is watching and throws open the horse pack, where his backpack full of items rest. With no eyes on him, he lets the ring fall from his finger and slips it into his pocket. The horse looks back casually and eventually goes back to grazing on grass. Bilbo hoards food from the pack, items he had stored while he was still “alive” and bolts into to the forest.

                Finding a pleasant tree, with long covering branches and soft moss at the base, he takes a seat and starts munching away on some bread and cheese. He even indulges himself on some salted meat and once done, he rubs his stomach in contentment. The ring in his pocket seems extra warm to him but Bilbo finds no desire within himself to slip it back on. Instead, he watches as the sun dips further down into the sky. He pulls a handkerchief from his pocket, the one torn off for him early in the expedition, and wipes his face with a clean edge. He sets it down beside him and lets the uneasiness in his chest sink in.

                He wants nothing less than to sleep with the ring on. It makes him feel uncomfortable, like someone was attaching his soul, limb by limb to four different horses and pulling. Despite this lack of desire, Bilbo knows that protection and warmth lay with the dwarfs back at the campsite. To sleep in the forest, alone at night, would guarantee a real and official death for the Hobbit. Bilbo decides to sit here for a while, weighing each and every choice. He does not want to stay dead any longer than necessary but he still has no clue how to describe what conspired when the Orcs took him captive. When he hears rustling in the leaves, and the snapping of branches, Bilbo decides to be safe and slip the ring back on. He curls up under the tree and watch as Thorin and Balin appear between the trees.

                “I am concerned about his mental well-being, Thorin,” Balin explains.

                “We have all been touched and effected by the death of our robber,” Thorin’s deep voice takes over. “I am no more concerned about Fíli’s mental health than I am for every other member in the group. It has shaken morale and broken some hearts,” Thorin stops and leans against a tree, scratching at his beard.

                “But he was absolutely convinced that he saw Bilbo in the forest,” Balin argues and Thorin holds up a hand.

                “Our group has been trekking for day after day, with many suns rising and falling at our feet without a definite break. My mind is telling me that the best thing for our group is to take a day to rest.  As the days continue, however, we must draw closer and closer to approaching Erebor. We may not have the time to appropriately mourn our fallen comrade,” Thorin looks at Balin with a sad smile.

                “If it had been anything other than a surprise ambush, accepting his death would be much simpler,” Balin nods. Thorin sighs.

                “I wish Gandalf had never spoken of his tragic ending. To be eaten by Orcs,” Thorin shakes his head, “is not a death I would impose on even my worst enemy. Provided, one of my worst enemies is a dragon and the other _is_ an orc,” Thorin smiles and Balin returns the sentiment.

                 “Kíli told me of your intention to court the hobbit,” Balin supplies and Thorin looks at him before looking away.

                “It is the truth.”               

                “You must be taking the brunt of the loss then,” Balin places a hand on the king’s shoulder. “You know we do not start courting without a-“ and Thorin places his hand on Balin’s to silence him. The dwarf’s hand drops.

                “It was meant with the deepest sincerity and feeling. It was well thought out before I made up my mind upon courting him,” Thorin explains and suddenly the lines of wear in his face seem deeper and his face, older. “I wish I had spent less time in my head and more time in action. Alas, it is too late.”

                “I am sorry,” Balin replies. “I will head back to camp and demand that you be given some time for solitude. You will need more time to cope than the rest of us who held Bilbo in our hearts as a companion and as a friend,” Balin turns and walks away. “Remain vigilant. These forests are not friendly to dwarfs who travel alone.” With that, Balin disappears from Bilbo’s view.

                Thorin is only a few steps away now and Bilbo can make out the worry on his face, the settling sadness of loss etching its way into the wrinkles and crevices. Bilbo wishes to offer comfort, to reach out and proclaim to Thorin that he is still alive, that the dwarf-king is not too late on his confession. Now Bilbo’s course of actions has been sealed the moment he returned to camp and refused to slip off the ring. He is destined to watch Thorin in emotional agony, all without producing a single sound to ease the torment.  Bilbo feels like a traitor. He feels dirty and guilty and unpleasant. The spirit world is magnifying the hurt and pushing it against his chest. Thorin does not move. He does not breathe deeply. Bilbo wishes for something other than dark grays and light whites. He wants to see the blackish brown flow of Thorin’s hair, the dark shade of his eyes, the light silver of his rings and the gray strands that show a wealth of experience and knowledge. He wants to see the wide array of greens housed in the forest, the dark brown mud color of dirt and the colorful shades of his own clothing. He is wallowing in pity.

                Bilbo tries his best to suppress a sob but catches his mistake too late. A sob chokes his way up his throat and hitches at his lips. The sound is audible and Thorin’s head automatically snaps in Bilbo’s direction. He knows he has just given his location away. Bilbo reacts on instinct and gets up slowly, not making any sound and back away, moving to a different tree to the right of Thorin. The dwarf’s eyes do not move and when Bilbo looks back, he mentally smacks himself.

                There, under the tree, is his handkerchief. He very well cannot return it now, picking it up would appear as sorcery to an unknowledgeable dwarf. Instead, Bilbo waits. He listens.

                Thorin walks over across the forest and bends down to pick up the handkerchief. He runs it very carefully between his fingers. Thorin must notice the design automatically and he looks around the forest with scanning eyes. Twice, Bilbo thinks that his eyes rest on the spot where he is standing but they quickly dart away.

                Thorin looks back down at the handkerchief before shifting his feet.

                “Bilbo?” The king calls out hesitantly, his voice shaking and Bilbo feels a chill run up his spine. “Bilbo Baggins?” Thorin repeats, this time louder and more demanding. Bilbo remains motionless, not wanting to give himself away. Thorin turns around in his spot and, when he sees nothing moving, his head drops and he crumples the cloth up in his hand. “It is nothing more than wishful thinking, Thorin Oakenshield. The Orcs carried him away,” Thorin whispers, the words spilling out from his lips and barely permeating the air. Bilbo holds back another sob. He watches Thorin’s back as he turns around and makes his way back in the direction of camp.

                When he is out of range, Bilbo lets out a sigh. It was a close call but now Bilbo is feeling worse than ever. He needs to watch his things more carefully, unless he wants Thorin to discover him and the power of the ring simultaneously.

                _Maybe I do,_ Bilbo thinks.

                Saying that nothing good arose from the mistake would be a lie. Bilbo can no longer deny his thoughts. He cannot keep hiding from the group. He is feeling like his soul is being torn apart.

                Bilbo decides to make his way back to camp and once there he sees that the majority of the dwarfs have fallen asleep, snoring away in their blankets, close to the fire. Bilbo decides to walk closer and take a seat close to Thorin. He remains as quiet as possible, letting the fire warm him up a bit. The spirit world is chilling him to his core.

                “What troubles your mind, Thorin?” Gandalf asks as his leans against a log, blanket spread across his lap.

                Thorin lies down, his hair falling over his face. Bilbo’s handkerchief is resting in his hand.

                “Grief, regret, despair, longing…” Thorin lists before closing his eyes.

                “Are these directed toward a certain hobbit?” The wizard inquires.

                It is silent again and Thorin nods, unseen by the wizard but looked upon by hobbit eyes.

                “When I was young and the other dwarfs laid me to sleep, they told me that our losses are ways of testing our strength, our will, our beliefs,” Thorin relays and Bilbo looks down on him with a frown.

                “Is that what you believe?” Gandalf whispers back.

                “I believe there is only so much a being can take before their soul is tainted with misery. Hope can chase away even the darkest traces of taint but hope is only a temporary medicine, a light with a limited lifespan. Eventually, the dark will come pouring back in. Hope needs to be coddled and maintained, worked on and looked over, as a child would,” Thorin lets his eyes open to look at the sky for one last moment before closing them again.  

                “Rest, my friend. Our dreams often illuminate the solutions to our problems,” Gandalf looks in Thorin’s direction and once again, Bilbo believes he can see him even in the spirit world.

                Thorin nods against the ground, a balled up fur against his face. His breathing evens out and, after a few moments of night pass, Thorin is asleep. Looking back, Gandalf is staring at the sky. When Bilbo tries to make eye contact, Gandalf lowers his head. Bilbo automatically looks away. Instead, Bilbo elects to lay down on the ground, his back to the fire. It offers little warmth but he moves closer to Thorin, his body parallel to Thorin’s slumbering form. Thorin’s hand is extended outward, the handkerchief rested against his palm. Bilbo sighs before adjusting his body to a comfortable spot.

                Only a few inches away from Thorin, out of arm’s reach enough to avoid flailing limbs in sleep, Bilbo rests. He can feel and hear Thorin’s deep breaths, harmonized with the soft breaths of other slumbering dwarfs and Bilbo wants nothing more than to be “alive.”

                Hesitantly, after surveying that the king-dwarf is still asleep, Bilbo reaches out and places a hand against the dwarf’s clothed chest. Upon contact, Thorin grunts in his sleep. Bilbo withdrawals the hand just as Thorin opens his eyes slowly. The dark orbs are almost light against the impenetrable black sky. A few stars glimmer to compare themselves to the color and Thorin eventually falls back asleep, his eyelids dropping before finally closing. He pushes his face against the fur, bring the hand with the handkerchief against his chest, over his heart, before letting dreams claim him once again.

                Bilbo is hit with another overwhelming sense of sadness. Thorin is hanging on to a handkerchief as the only thread and memory of him and here Bilbo was, falling asleep and invisible to the mourning dwarf. It is a long night and he fights sleep’s claim against his heavy eyes.

                Underneath the expanse of stars, the blanket of constellations and untold stories of legendary heroes not yet born, Bilbo makes a plan in his head. Doubt and frustration meet a climax, a decision that cannot be taken back. Within the rising of the next few suns, Bilbo will slip off the ring and reveal himself. He wishes to put the guilt and sadness to rest. He wishes to give Thorin a little more than a handkerchief to hang onto. Sleep does not find the hobbit. He will reveal himself soon.

                Beneath the same expanse of stars, Thorin Oakenshield is deep asleep, wishing to have a certain hobbit, one who he intended to court, falling asleep next to him. As fate and will would have it, the very same hobbit is doing exactly that, regretting each and every decision he makes with a heavy heart.

                

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not want this chapter to be completely dark so, I hope the ending offers some hope for a future happiness. I wanted to explore the emotional effects of the ring and a little caring side of Thorin. Bilbo is starting to discover what he had before and never realized. Do not worry, a reunion is coming soon! :) I like to drag things out so you guys feel like Bilbo and Thorin do. I know, I am cruel but it is necessary. Some love will follow. Maybe a little hurt/comfort.   
>  I really appreciate all the reviews and comments, along with the kudos. It gives me encouragement :) Tomorrow (well, today here in NY) is Christmas Eve but I will try awfully hard to get another chapter up. Thank you for reading!


	4. You May Not Like My Burglar, But Please Do Not Damage Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Falling asleep next to Thorin sounds particularly refreshing to Bilbo but sleep does not find him. He is still invisible and he is still technically dead. When a new day dawns, Bilbo is set upon revealing himself before the sun goes down. There are only a few problems. The ring is beginning to take it's toll and an army of orcs is marching straight towards the dwarf encampment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is now past 12:00am on the East Coast so... Merry Christmas to all you wonderful readers who celebrate it. If not, Happy Holidays and my deepest wishes for future happiness. Anyway, I rushed to get this chapter completed and out to you all. I could not let the suspense hang. You might very well hate me for this chapter after reading it but please have mercy. Good things come to those who wait. I hope I can all give you a gift and get another chapter out later today (I'm going off of Eastern Standard Time here). Thank you guys for the overwhelming pleasant response to my story! :)

                The sun rise brought no amount of relief to Bilbo Baggins. He had trouble sleeping through the night, even while spread out on the ground next to Thorin. Thorin woke up several times as well and Bilbo often shifted his gaze downward to see the dwarf staring at him. The hobbit eventually came to his senses and realized that he was wearing the ring and that the dwarf-king was most likely staring off into the heavens, right through him.

                Right now, he was dead. He felt dead. He felt like Gollum, who was torn away from the rest of the world and carrying the burden of the ring. No amount of power could keep him from eventually revealing himself. He felt attached to the gold ring band but not so much that he could never go without it. So far, the gold band was proving to be more trouble than its worth.

                When Thorin awoke, he would stare at the sky before trying to find a slightly less uncomfortable spot on the ground. Bilbo had no such relief. A feeling of discomfort has wormed its way into Bilbo’s chest and the comfort of a deep slumber was near impossible to find. Instead, he stayed awake, looking at the other dwarfs and thinking how to reveal himself. He could not wait any longer; he would do it before the sun set again.

                When the sun was beginning to peek its way through the trees, the dwarfs shook the slumber from their limbs and arose to meet the morning. Thorin stretched out on his mat of furs and did what Bilbo noticed he did every morning; he took a head count. Thorin’s eyes wandered around for a longer time before a frown took over his relaxed face.

                _He probably forgot to count me out,_ Bilbo laments and when Thorin is done taking a head count, he drops his eyes to the handkerchief in his palm. Before he stands up, he slips the cloth into his pocket and starts shaking the rest from his legs. Bilbo crawls away slowly, careful not to be hit by stray limbs. Dwalin, Balin, Bombur and Bifur prepare breakfast while the other dwarfs pack up camp.

                “If time allows, I wish for us to set off within the hour?” Thorin asks Bifur, soliciting a nod from the other dwarf.

                Bilbo heads back to the edge of camp and, after seeing the dwarfs eat, heads straight to the forest in order to ignore the hunger pains in his stomach. He pulls off the ring and stretches, hearing his back crack and his bones protest. He cannot take another night of sleeping under the influence of ring. He wants to feel the fur against his skin. He wants to see the night time in color, the stars in illuminated silver instead of muted grey tones. Bilbo exhales and prepares himself to go invisible again, to feel the burden of the ring and mount his steed. He is not looking forward to another day, riding straight for hours with no break.

                Bilbo walks a few circles in the forest, stretching his legs in preparation for hours of being seated. He reaches down to touch his toes and pulls himself forward, hands in the air, as if to touch the sky. He fully intended to put back on the ring, but the sound of a horn shattered his concentration. An arrow whizzed past his feet.

                _Not this again!_ Bilbo sighs and takes off running again.

                The tales of old heroes never said much about the heroes running away but, luckily, Bilbo Baggins considered himself more of an adventurer, a poor one at that, rather than a hero. There were no people to document his feats, his cowardly retreats. It was probably for the best as it took the hobbit almost a minute of running to realize that the ring was still in his pocket and the situation was not exactly like the last. He puts the ring on, mid-run and flies into the shadows. Bilbo starts to scale a tree for safety and when he looks down, his eyes widen. Below him, only a few feet away, is a group of Orcs, thirty or forty strong. Some are mounted on Wargs with matted hair and visible, dagger long, teeth.

                They march, digging their staves into the ground and making grunting noises.

                Bilbo feels a deep duty and feeling that he has to do something to alert the dwarfs and Gandalf to the oncoming horde. He does not want any of the remaining companions to die, actually die, by another orc invasion. Bilbo drops from the tree but clings close to the base, terror building in his chest as the Orc troop grows closer. When they are within hearing rage, a careful distance away due to Bilbo’s innate increased hearing ability, he is able to pick up a few words lingering in the air.

                “The last group lost their hobbit meal. Told us to kill whatever short-folk we see,” A voice snorted and laughed, making weird clicking noises a little after.

                “We are on his path,” Another voice spoke and Bilbo listens intently. “We may be eating more meat tonight, boys,” It declares and Bilbo shrinks even further back into the tree.

                As the Orcs draw closer, he sees some of the soldiers conversing and Bilbo is surprised that he can pick up their speech. He never studied Orcish and could not even say “Good morning,” if he wanted to. Not that anyone actually wants to get close enough to an orc to bid him a good morning.

                Bilbo walks in terror as the force marches, swords clanking against metal armor, scraping against metal boots. Bilbo can hear the sounds of wooden staves being dragged against the dirt in a repetitive motion. He can hear Orcs snort and spit; hear them readjust their grips on the swords in their hands.

                Bilbo shudders at the sounds and the image but watches, content that he cannot be seen. Bilbo walks forward, a whole horde of ideas sprinting around in his head. He needs to warn Thorin. He needs to tell the dwarfs that they are in danger.

                The Orcs are drawing closer now, the sounds growing louder and the image of their distorted faces coming into view. Bilbo has seen some ugly creatures. He has seen some ugly hobbits, some ugly trolls but nothing ever compares to the faces of the Orcs. With silent footfalls, Bilbo cuts in front of the group and takes off at a sprint. Mid-way through the run he realizes the forest has grown silent, the sound of the Orcs dying down.

                A call, in a foreign language sweeps across the air and Bilbo freezes, his feet locking up. He turns to look at the orc crowd, only a few feet away, staring directly at him. Their faces, their armor, the ground beneath their dirty feet are all in a full spectrum of color, the bright greens against the sharp blacks hurting his retinas. Bilbo flicks his eyes down towards his ring finger and sees it gone again, only pale flesh stretched over his digit.

                _It has gone and disappeared again,_ Bilbo swears. It was an unreliable piece of rubbish. Bilbo smacks himself quickly before darting around to see the golden ring on the ground. The Orcs dig their toes into the earth and launch themselves forward, scrambling against each other to get towards the Halfling. Bilbo notices the gold glimmer on the ground, covered by a few leaves and visible roots.

                Bilbo does not even have the time to panic. He sprints forward, as fast as his small legs can carry him and dives atop the ring. A thought jumps into his mind as he hits the ground. He doesn’t put on the ring just yet. He does not want the Orcs to see him disappear. He may be invisible but he is not intangible after all. He still has to warn Thorin.

                Bilbo grabs the ring and crawls to his feet once more. He shakes his head, partially in doubt of his abilities and sanity, and darts between some more trees. The branches thicken and hang lower, indicating that he is pulling the Orcs closer to camp. He hears the clanking of armor, the shouts in Orcish, coming from behind him. He hears the growls from the Wargs and the battle cries. Summoning all the volume he can, Bilbo grabs the ring and shouts as loud as he can.

                “ORCS!” Bilbo shouts, using every single power in his voice to make sure that the wind carries his voice. He hears it reverberate off of the tree-trunks, bounce throughout the forest and, worse yet, he hears the Orcs draw nearer and nearer to him. The tips of their blades, reflecting the sunlight, peek through the leaves and soon, limbs and faces appear.

                Bilbo slips the ring back on continues running, feeling his legs protest slightly. Bilbo hopes, almost prays, that the group heard his call. If he led the Orcs to camp and set up their ambush, he might as well fling himself off the highest point in order to avoid the blame and the pain.

                The Orcs stop advancing, looks of confusion spreading across their sharp and deformed features. The metal of their armor stops rubbing, their swords drop. A growl fouls the air.

                Bilbo scales another tree, trusting his limbs and agility to grab the appropriate branches at the right time. A battle cry, in a language he can finally understand, responds to the growl.

                “ATTACK!” Bilbo hears and when he looks down, he makes out various heads of blond and black, brown and grey, advancing towards the orc horde.

                Thorin and the dwarfs take arms against the orcs. Arrows scream through the air and embed in the weak spots of the Orc armor. Several fall to the ground, twitching or dead. Metal meets metal when the groups collide. An arrow comes awfully close to knocking Bilbo from his branch and the hobbit decides that he is not even safe within the heights of the tree. He drops down, scrambles to his feet and doubles back around the two colliding armies. He stays at a far radius away from the battleground and watches as the dwarfs make short work of dropping orc carcasses to the ground. They seem enraged, powerful and determined.  Thorin is in the center of the attack, whipping around in multiple directions as his sword meets Orc flesh. They fall away and Thorin advances once more, occasionally falling away to save his fellow dwarfs from fatal blows or wounding swings.

                When Bilbo reaches the back of the Orc advancement, making out the black hair of the very last orc, he stands still, quite unsure of how to act next. The thought does not last long. A shrill screech breaks through the air. Bilbo is physically hurt by the pitch and he drops to his knees, trying to cover his ears. He looks around at the Orcs and dwarfs and sees them continue fighting, as if they cannot hear the glass-shattering, concrete-breaking, eardrum-ending yell. Bilbo curls in on himself and tries to avoid the volume. It is unsuccessful. The screech continues. The dwarfs and Orcs continue to clash.

                A wind picks up in the air and Bilbo grows cold in his thin clothing. His hair is whipped back and forth against his forehead as the violent wind continues. The screech carries on. Bilbo wants to crawl under a rock and cry. He cannot even summon his thoughts enough to contemplate what is conspiring. The dwarfs obviously are unable to hear the screech.

                The screech reaches its highest pitch and Bilbo sees shadows, gray and long, descending towards him. He sees no faces, no fingers, no ears or noses but feels a cold creep into his flesh. He feels like a glacier, like he is slowly freezing from his marrow outwards. Goosebumps raise and he starts to shiver but it offers him no warmth. Bilbo pulls his cloak closer all while trying to block out the screech. When Bilbo cannot take the temperature or the noise, he forgets about the orc army and throws the ring off, burying it deep in his pocket.

                When he returns to the physical world, the screeching stops and he begins to regain feeling in his fingertips and toes. His ears start to thaw. Bilbo looks up but is met with no comforting sight. A pain flares sharp in his shoulder, eliciting a scream across his lips. He makes out brown fur, the face of an orc and the sight of large ivory teeth burrowing themselves in his shoulder. He feels the sensation of a hard object scraping against his bones. He grits his teeth and screams again as his body is lifted up. Bilbo is suddenly dropped and he scrambles back. The teeth grab him again and bone is once again met by teeth. The warg’s tongue touches Bilbo’s arm, completely encased in the creature’s mouth. Bilbo screams once more and is dropped again. He digs into his energy supply and summons enough strength to lift his sword straight into the monster’s mouth. The warg drops back, pawing at his mouth in an attempt to extricate the blade from the pink roof.

                Through vision blurred by pain and tears, he sees his sword on the ground, glowing blue and a Warg, with bloody teeth, inching forward. Orcs with long blades, longer than his torso, draw in. Bilbo continues to inch away, crawling backwards on his back with his feet and hands. Streams of red stain his shirt, drip into his cloak and Bilbo hisses every time his right shoulder moves backward. His robes are torn and his flesh is coated in mud, dug up when the Orcs first marched through.

                _This is it,_ Bilbo thinks. _I really am going to be orc food._

                He contemplates slipping the ring on again but dreads the thought of the piercing cold and the ear-shattering screech. While Bilbo begins to accept his untimely and unfortunate end, a splay of blond hair and black fur steps in front of his field of view. A sword is pointed against the advancing Orcs. Bilbo drops down and collapses in his pain-induced haze.

                “THORIN!” The man in front of him yells. Bilbo looks at the man, the dwarf with blond hair. Fíli stands in front of him, yelling for aid. When one orc comes too close, he brings his sword down and lets the metal engrain itself in the creature’s skull. He kicks the body off of his blade.

                A few more dwarfs run in front of Bilbo and he feels a pair of arms wrap itself around his torso. He weakly tries to push against the hold but is met with a grunt and a stronger grip.

                “Relax, hobbit,” The voice urges and Bilbo tilts his head back to meet Bofur's eyes. “We have you. Just hang on.” Bilbo nods and lets his body go a little more limp. Red is dripping onto Bofur’s robes now and the dwarf’s eyebrows knit together.

                Thorin and Gandalf appear now, looking a combination of surprised and uniquely enraged. The remaining Orcs are slain, falling down as blades pierce in vital locations. When Bilbo looks up again, all of the dwarfs are assembled in front of him.

                “Help me!” Bofur yells. “He is losing too much blood!” Bilbo’s eyes begin to drift shut. “Come on, Bilbo.. don’t die on us again!”

                Thorin walks over and Bilbo is set down on the ground, Bofur’s arms going to the pack on his back.

                “Bilbo Baggins, if you die from a warg bite, you are going to give Thorin an eternity worth of bragging rights,” Nori addresses and Bilbo weakly nods.

                Thorin grabs at a large piece of cloth that Bofur hands him. Thorin is ripping it in various locations.

                “You do not have my permission to die,” Thorin looks deep into Bilbo’s eyes, concern coming to the forefront more than anger. Bilbo nods and bites his lip and Thorin tears at the hobbit’s shirt. When his chest is exposed, Bilbo sees Thorin reach around and wrap up the bite wounds. Dwalin comes forward and starts dabbing away at the excess blood. Bilbo suppresses another scream. “It is going to be fine,” Thorin pats Bilbo’s leg as he puts pressure against the shoulder. Bilbo fails to stifle the next scream and he yells out.

                “Get me some water!” The dwarf-king yells and Balin runs off. A second later he comes back with a container. Bilbo hisses as the water is poured on his exposed chest. He sees some of the red run off into the dirt.

                “Thorin,” Bilbo whispers. If he is going to die, he is most certainly going to find out why Thorin wanted to court him.

                “Hang on, please, dear hobbit,” Thorin knots some of the fabric and tightens it with his teeth. Bilbo hisses again in pain.

                “Did I not, before, relay that I had the deepest feeling that he was truly still alive?” Fíli asks.

                “Now is not the time,” Thorin remarks and his nephew nods and kneels next to him.

                Bilbo is starting to fall victim to his weariness. His eyelids begin to drift shut, his body refusing to process anymore pain.

                “You must stay awake,” Thorin urges, taking his bloodied hands and holding either side of Bilbo’s head.

                “You,” Bilbo speaks but suddenly erupts in a coughing fit, feeling his chest burn with a fiery pain. Gloin holds his front and back chest between his hands and the hobbit’s cough dies down. When he is breathing again, he finishes. “You did not.”

                “I am alive and well now,” Thorin mumbles. “You cannot die from a Warg bite. We only just rescued you,” Thorin’s eyes are wet now. He shakes his head, blood matting into the ends of his locks. When he looks back down at Bilbo, determination has replaced the sadness.

                Bilbo smiles up at the dwarf-king and holds a hand up, folding down three fingers and holding up two. “Two warg bites,” He laughs weakly.

                “No!” Thorin yells as Bilbo’s eyes close. “Bilbo,” he feels his body being shaken. When Bilbo does not respond, lingering on the edge of conscious and unconscious, he feels his body being gathered up into two arms.  A pair of lips brushes against his forehead. “Do not take him,” Thorin whispers and Bilbo feels himself being carried forward. “Do not take him from me again.”

                Bilbo digs his head against Thorin’s chest and lets unconsciousness call him deeper.

                He breathes out and lets the world go black. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it might not seem like a very "Happy Holidays" ending but, I did respond to some of your demands. Bilbo has finally revealed himself and he has met with Thorin. I just messed around with the circumstances that brought them together a little. (I have an evil side to me when I write). This is also my longest chapter yet. I am working on the next chapter already. Because of people demanding my presence at Xmas parties, I may not update until tomorrow night or the day after. I will try to make your waiting time as minimal as possible. Thank you guys for all the reading and reviewing. It really gives me a strong determination to keep writing. I promise, some Bilbo/Thorin moments will happen very soon. Circumstances just had to push them back together again before I, as the writer, could start forming a bond.


	5. Back Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Bilbo's injuries at the teeth of the wargs, he comes to consciousness, all wrapped up and covered in a fur coat. The dwarfs want nothing more than to get him back to normal and healthy again and Thorin, especially, is watching out for him. Does this mean that Thorin is back to wanting to court him again? Now, if he knew everything that Bilbo has been hiding from the group will his mind change? Gandalf is scheming again and Bilbo is feeling a little more than guilty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update guys! Christmas was a mad rush and I was given a new digital sketchpad, so I have been trying it out for the past two days :) I started to work on this again and I'm already almost up to 4k views. I am so happy! You guys are amazing. Here is the next chapter to the story. Bilbo and Thorin have been reunited but some problems remain. It is hard to pick up where they left off and Bilbo has something weighing on his mind. So have at it; the new chapter of Invisible vs. Indivisible. I hope you accept an extra long chapter as an apology for the extra long wait.

                When Bilbo fell asleep after the attack, he had the fleeting thought that he would never wake up again, that he would just drift off, eyes closed and unconscious forever. Bilbo has no clue what death is like but he figures it offers some comfort from shooting pain and emotional discomfort. A bit like being wrapped up in thick blankets with a full stomach on a chilly autumn day. Then again, Bilbo fought with an even more chilling idea: What if the afterlife is exactly like slipping on the ring and entering into the spiritual world? That very thought kept Bilbo alive, hanging onto the last tendrils of life and refusing to let go. He would not condemn his soul to an eternity in that place.

                His body aches and his ears ring but his body feels enveloped in a thick warmth. When Bilbo finally wakes up, he is staring up at the sky, the colors all too bright and too overwhelming. He shuts them almost instantly and breathes out, hissing as the pain all comes back. His shoulder throbs all the way around and his chest feels heavy, like an added weight when he breathes.

                After giving himself sufficient time to adjust to being conscious again, Bilbo opens his eyes, lifting his good arm up to shield his face. Any movement, however, awakens a spark of pain. Bilbo notices his head is propped up by his pack and he is covered by a large fur coat.

                Bilbo glances around and finds himself next to a small body of water, a pond of sorts, surrounded by a clearing on the border of some trees. To his left, near the pond, Ori is relaxing against some rocks, sketching away in a bound journal. Nature was rather silent but a buzzing in his ears was drowning out any ambient noise. Nori was a few feet away from Ori, sharpening his weapon. Kili, Fili and Dori were in the pond, relaxing against the shore, arms holding them above the surface of the apparently deep water, and rubbing out spots on their clothing. Bifur is digging through his pack, apparently for nothing in particular.

                When he turns his head to the right, he can make out the rest of the group. Balin and Gandalf are against a set of rocks, off the shore of the pond. Bofur has an instrument against his mouth, idly fingering over some bored out holes. No noise is coming out but Bofur is looking out at the sky as if he were playing some epic song. Gloin, Oin and Thorin were conversing while sitting down on the ground.

                Bilbo smiles at all of dwarfs, relaxing in the clearing. He is happy to be alive, to see all of them in full color and to have them know that he did not end up as orc food. Eventually, Oin meets Bilbo’s gaze and notices that he is awake.

                “The Halfling is up,” Oin comments as he gets to his feet. Bilbo nods against his pack. “How are you feeling?”

                The rest of the dwarfs turn to look at Bilbo who is currently trying to hide himself in the fur coat. Thorin and Oin both walk over and Thorin laughs weakly before peeling the coat off of Bilbo’s face.

                “And how is our burglar doing?” Thorin asks with a smile as Bilbo’s eye appears.

                When the coat is completely off of his face he shakes his head.

                “Not too great,” Bilbo responds and places a hand on his shoulder.

                Thorin peels the rest of the cloak off and Bilbo suddenly notices his lack of any shirt. He looks down to see his shoulder wrapped up in grey cloth, the bleeding stopped. Bilbo is thankful that he is not able to see the wound. Something inside his mind is telling him that he would rather not see it. “It will be tender for some time,” Thorin relays from experience. “Oin can you check the wound?”

                Kili, Fili and Dori jump out of the pond and sit by the edge to dry off. The rest of the dwarfs continue what they were doing before. Ori went back to sketching; Nori continued to sharpen his weapon and Bofur, Gandalf and Balin stay off on the other side of the clearing, watching Bilbo with only an acute interest.

                Oin walked up to the side of Bilbo and Thorin quickly steps over him to take a spot on his left side. Thorin points to his two eyes before pointing to Bilbo’s, indicating that he wants Bilbo’s complete attention as Oin peels away the bandages.

                Bilbo can feel the bandages pull away, feel them pull against  the open wounds. Thorin smiles at Bilbo while the hobbit tries his best to not wince as each strip of fabric is pulled away. Bilbo, out of curiosity, had a sudden interest to peek at the extent of the wounds. Wargs had huge jaws and since he was bit twice, he can only imagine how many puncture wounds are beneath the fabric. He starts to shift his gaze but Thorin grabs him under the chin and gently pulls his face back to the opposite side.

                “Place some trust in me, even if it may be blindly. You do not want to look yet,” Thorin grabs the fur coat from off the ground and place it around his own shoulders.

                “Is it that bad?” Bilbo asks, his eyes narrowing.

                “I was bit once and it was quite horrific. You have double that amount,” Thorin shrugs.

                “Am I going to die?” Bilbo questions, mainly to judge the severity.

                “I will not let you,” The dwarf-king responds.

                Bilbo feels something cold being rubbed over his open wounds and he quickly flinches and looks down at his shoulder to see a swollen and red extremity. He gasps and tries to move him away but Thorin has a strong push against his good shoulder and his abdomen.

                “It simply looks worse than it is,” Thorin urges but Bilbo shakes his head.

                Bilbo calms down for a minute, letting rationality fill his mind. He breathes out and looks back at his shoulder. Oin is watching him carefully, a metal bowl in his hands filled with some thick brown paste.

                His shoulder is red and swollen, patched with large portions of blood-stained flesh. In a circular formation, large puncture wounds are scattered across his upper chest and shoulder. There are many wounds, more than Bilbo has the time to count and some are surrounded by black and blue tinged skin.

                Bilbo swallows deeply before turning his head and looking at Thorin again.

                “Should have heeded my warning,” Thorin remarks and Bilbo just stares down at the grass he is laying on.

                “What is that?” Bilbo asks Oin, who is spreading the goo with paste-like consistency on his wounds.

                 “A mixture of healing herbs and plants that hold some magical properties. It’s a salve of sorts,” Oin grins from ear to ear. “An ointment if you will. It will help you heal faster.”

                “It helped me after I was Warg food as well,” Thorin nods. “Spared me the torment of a few extra days of pain.”

                “I will trust you with it then. Thank you,” Bilbo allows Oin to spread on the rest of the paste. It cools the burning and swelling of his wounds. When Oin is done mending the front, Thorin helps Bilbo lean forward as he repeats the process with the wounds on his back. When the ointment is spread, Oin wraps his shoulder up in new strips of fabric.

                “Move your shoulder a little,” Oin demands and Bilbo listens, lifting and lowering his shoulder a few times. He finds the pain has dulled. It is still present but there is no longer a shooting pain running down his chest from the wounds.

                “That feels an infinite amount better,” Bilbo remarks and smiles at the two dwarfs.

                Bilbo decides not to lie back down in order to avoid the pain of pressing against his back injuries. Instead, he sits up and Thorin lays his fur coat back down on his lap.

                “Thank you all,” Bilbo looks at the dwarfs. “ I am sincere. I thought I was facing down my last moments and then you lot showed up just as all hope was fading away.” Bilbo looked at Thorin but the dwarf was refusing to make eye-contact. His gaze was firmly planted on the ground.

                “No,” Thorin responds to the gratitude. “We should have spared you the days of torment and set out to recover you the second you were grabbed,” Thorin glares down Gandalf with such contempt that, if he had any innate power, Gandalf would be in flames. “But we will discuss that later.” Gandalf just simply nods with a half-smile, smoking away on his pipe as if he has no cares. Bilbo honestly wonders how the man can be so nonchalant.

                Bombur walks over while Bilbo is sitting up. He promptly shoves a bowl of stew onto his lap.

                “That should get you feeling back to normal, if not better,” He laughs and heads back to the campfire.

                “Thank you!” He shouts and receives a wave from the dwarf cook. “You guys are spoiling me….” Bilbo cautiously points out and Thorin just chuckles.

                “We thought you dead,” The dwarf-king frowns. “We apologize for not fighting for you earlier. I cannot and will not dare to imagine that things that have befallen upon you during your capture,” Thorin drops his head. “Though , after talking to our group wizard,” Thorin looks at Gandalf with a glare again, “I hope to be able to steal a few moments of time?” It comes out as a question but Bilbo knows that any request phrased by the quest leader is often a demand as opposed to a question.

                “Of course,” Bilbo nods before filling his mouth with stew. He cherishes the taste, his empty stomach finally receiving a well-needed meal after almost two days of barely eating anything. Thorin sits beside him silently while he eats. When he finishes the bowl of stew and his stomach is pleasantly full, Thorin stands up.

                “Do you think you are able to walk around? It might be in your best interest to stand as soon as you are able,” Thorin stands in front of Bilbo and offers out a hand, palm up. Bilbo takes into account his physical state and how he is feeling at this particular moment. His shoulder feels a lot better after the paste and new bandaging and his shoulder, not his legs, seems to be the only thing giving him pain. His back protests with every movement but, if he is careful, he should be able to walk.

                Bilbo decides to accept the hand and Thorin tries to gently help Bilbo stand. The hobbit is unsteady at first and his shoulder protests at the movement, sending shivers of pain down his spine. He takes a moment, waiting for it to subside. Thorin is patient and waits for Bilbo to nod before trying to stand again. He makes it off the ground this time and, still unsteady, he begins to stand. Thorin reinforces the stance with an added hand around Bilbo’s waist. The hobbit is hauled to his feet.

                Standing is much easier. His shoulder drops down and the tenseness surrounding the injury subsides. Bilbo sighs and Thorin keeps a hand on Bilbo’s good shoulder to steady him. Thorin walks behind the hobbit before stopping.

                “Try to take a few steps. We want to assess if anything else is injured,” The king requested so Bilbo obeys but, as soon as he goes to lift his foot, a wave of light-headedness takes over and Bilbo begins to fall forward. The arm around his waist is replaced and Thorin holds him steady off the ground.

                “Sorry,” Bilbo looks away. “A little dizzy spell is all.” Thorin nods .

                Bilbo tries again and manages to take two steps before he jars his shoulder against Thorin as he moves and goes falling forward. Thorin catches him again.

                “One foot in front of the other,” Thorin laughs and Bilbo weakly laughs along.

                After a few more steps, steady and strong, Thorin removes the hand from Bilbo’s shoulder and lets him walk on his own.  Thorin watches carefully and when he must finally get a glimpse that nothing other than Bilbo’s back and shoulder are providing him pain, he helps Bilbo back into a sitting spot on the ground.

                “I do not want to ride out until tomorrow night at the earliest,” Thorin tells Bilbo but leaves the statement loud enough for the other companions in the group to hear. “You are in no condition to ride a horse and we do not want to make your condition any worse. We risk an attack, a fatal run, if we weaken you and shove you into a battle.”

                Bilbo does not like the idea that he is holding the group back. While he does not wish to be back inside the “ring world” it would have been easier for everyone else if he stayed knowledgably dead. Thinking back, Bilbo remembers that the ring was in his front jacket pocket.  His breath stops and his heart slows. He is not currently wearing his jacket.

                “Where are the rest of my clothes?” Bilbo asks in a blind worry and Bofur stops air-playing his instrument and grabs at a bundle next to him. He saunters over and sets the bundle, a shirt and his jacket on the ground. Bilbo quickly feels around, trying not to be obvious and feels a hard indent, a circular shape, in the pocket of his jacket. He sighs. The ring is still there. He holds up the jacket and shirt to assess the damage. The front of his shirt is beyond saving. His white undershirt is completely soaked through with blood, red all over. The next shirt, a blue color is torn in various places and contains a little less blood. His yellow vest seems to be in the best shape, with some of the holes sewn and the blood appearing to be soaked off. His jacket looks a little worse for wear but is sewn up as well, the color hiding any blood there may have been.

                “We did some patchwork on it,” Bofur grins and looks down at the ruined shirt and over-shirt. “Those are beyond salvage, I am afraid.”

                “Thank you for recovering these two,” Bilbo indicates to his vest and his jacket before Gloin throws a white shirt at Bilbo’s face. He hits it square on.

                “Here you go,” He yells. “It is Ori’s. It will not be as snug as you might be accustomed to but it will do.”

                “Thank you,” Bilbo grins again. “I feel like I will be saying that a tremendous amount today,” He looks down at the shirt and at his current lack of any. He ponders the best possible way to go about sliding the shirts on without irritating his shoulder. Hell, he can barely walk let along reach down and button an undershirt.

                Thorin must immediately recognize the problem because he takes the white shirt out of Bilbo’s hand and reaches around to place it on his shoulders. The rest of the dwarfs make themselves scarce and turn around, trying to busy themselves with other hobbies. Bilbo thinks it is weird but respects the privacy.

                “I appreciate it but you do not have to-“ Bilbo starts to say but is cut off.

                “You will only hurt your shoulder more if you are stubborn and try to do it yourself,” Thorin remarks as he bundles up the sleeve at the cuff and slips Bilbo’s hand through. He then unravels the shirt and straightens the sleeve, making sure not to pull on his shoulder. When the injured arm is in, Bilbo pulls his good one in and Thorin reaches down to button the front.

                “It is not a sign of weakness,” Thorin smiles. “Let us assist you.”

                Bilbo does not say anything but watches as Thorin grabs his yellow vest next. Thorin bends down to repeat the process of pulling the injured shoulder in. Strands of Thorin’s hair brush against Bilbo’s face and the dwarf-king is oddly close now. He finishes pulling the vest on and buttons that one as well.

                He grabs the jacket and pulls it on for Bilbo, leaving the front unbuttoned.

                “There we go,” Thorin steps back and admires his handy work. “We have our burglar back and looking like new.”  

                Bilbo doesn’t know what to say. He has been proclaiming his gratitude every time one of the dwarfs came to his aid. He was about to wear the sentiment right out of the word. Instead Bilbo checked that the ring was in his pocket once more before trying to stand once more.

                Thorin started hovering, leaning forward to help Bilbo stand. Bilbo waved him off, shoeing him away as arms extended further outwards as Bilbo became unsteady on his feet.         

                Bilbo eventually got to a standing position, keeping his shoulder in and smiled at the dwarfs.

                “A few wargs cannot keep me down,” Bilbo straightens himself out, trying not to wince at the pain in his back.

                The hobbit takes a few steps and looks around. Seeing the horses in the corner, he decides to test his strength. With the weight of his experience under the ring weighing on his mind and the Warg bite on his shoulder sending shooting pains down his spine, he takes it slow. Thorin follows him closely, watching every single one of the halfling’s movements.

                “Thorin,” Bilbo says out loud, a bit of laughter and pensiveness in his head.

                “Yes?” Thorin asks, continuing his position of following Bilbo as he walked unsteadily.

                “You don’t need to follow me,” Bilbo walks forward, regaining some strength with every step.

                “If you insist,” Thorin bows out and stops following Bilbo , electing instead to stand behind him as he hobbled around.

                Bilbo turns around, a victorious smile lurking on the edges of his lips. He decides to walk over, circle the camp once and take a spot back down on the ground. If he was going to be forced to rest for the remainder of the day, he wants to stretch his legs out while he still can.

                The dwarfs keep their watchful eyes on Bilbo as he wanders the camp, in pain, but feeling better than ever now that he doesn’t have to pretend like he is dead. Bilbo decides to sit by the pond and stick his feet in. He wanders over, slowly to avoid stretching anything the wrong way and tries to ponder the best way to work himself into a sitting position. He stands at the edge as time passes, looking down at the water and pensively debating whether or not to ask for help.

                “Do you need assistance sitting?” Thorin yells from his spot at the fireplace.

                Bilbo, once again, ponders his response.                       

                Thorin stands up, brushes off his pants and walks over to Bilbo. The hobbit decides he can probably just sit down without too much trouble. He squats lightly, lowering himself to the ground and attempts to just pull his legs out from under him. His feet hit the edge of the mud at the pond and slip, pulling Bilbo down and into the water. He twists himself to land on his good shoulder as he hits the edge. His hand flies down to grip the edge but he ultimately fails and plunges into the pond.

                It is deeper than it seems. Bilbo opens his eyes to the murky water and, out of reaction; he attempts to swim the surface. His shoulder kills as he tries to tread water, to force himself to the surface to refill his lungs with air. He stops, lets himself sink before holding his shoulder tight against his body. He uses his other three limbs and tries to push himself to the surface. He hears the water break above him and before he can pulled his injured self to the surface, arms wrap around his waist and pull him up, his body no longer sinking. His head breaks the surface and his hair sticks to his forehead. He pulls air into his lungs. His body is shoved onto the edge of the pond. Bilbo turns around and stares at the sky, his feet dipping down in the water. Someone pulls themselves up and out of the pond, kneeling down next to Bilbo.

                Bilbo sighs, closing his eyes. His hands go to grip his chest as he breathes in and out. They drift over his jacket pocket and Bilbo freezes almost instantly. The ring is gone. It is no longer in his pocket. Bilbo takes a deep breath and knowing he is going to regret his next action, he slides off the bank and plunges back into the water.

                He knows better this time. When his feet touch the bottom, he locks his shoulder against his arm and keeps it as still as possible. He stares up at the surface, feet away. He suddenly starts spastically swimming, looking around on the muddy bottom for a golden glimmer. He sees it, a few inches away and makes a grab for it. Again, a pair of arms wrap against his waist, pulling him up. Bilbo struggles in the water and makes a sudden dash for the ring. He practically chokes in water as he moves his shoulder wrong. Whoever is in the water next to him lets go suddenly, in surprise at the flailing limbs. Bilbo kicks his feet away and propels himself towards the ring, throwing his body over it. He grips down with his good arm, grabbing the ring and clenching it in his fist. The arms come again and Bilbo submits, allowing himself to be pulled to the surface. Once again, he is shoved on the bank and Thorin pulls himself up to the surface. Bofur, Kili, Fili, Gloin and Oin are at the edge and Bofur reaches down and pulls Bilbo back from the edge. Bilbo starts coughing up water. He makes a sneaky move to hide the ring in his vest pocket. He is dripping with water and everything clings to his skin. His shoulder aches.

                Bilbo lays against the ground and inhales and exhales deeply.

                Bilbo can hear wet footsteps approaching him.

                “Do you have a death wish?” The deep voice of the dwarf-king yells and Bilbo shudders. “What was that whole move with jumping back in? You can’t swim with your shoulder like that!” Thorin kneels in front of Bilbo and Bilbo looks away. He refuses to answer. He cannot come up with a reasonable excuse. “An answer would be gratitude enough for jumping in, in full clothing, to save you.” Thorin has an edge to his voice, something that Bilbo only sees directed to his enemies on the battlefield.

                “I don’t know,” Bilbo responds, looking away.

                “No,” Thorin shakes his head. “ I saw your face when you slid back in. You were frightened. Why did you jump back in?” Thorin is authoritative now, forcing Bilbo to stare at him. 

                After looking at him, Thorin’s eyebrows, which were knitted together, and his nostrils, now flared, relax and his face becomes less tightened and furious looking. “Bilbo, why did you jump back in? What were you afraid of?”

                Bilbo breathes out as an excuse formulates in his mind. He does not want to reveal the nature of the ring. He does not want to lie to Thorin either but something like the ring, with power infused in the very metal it is made of, is not something he wants to make the world aware of.

                “I..” Bilbo breathes out again. “When I was being pulled out, I couldn’t help but flashback to when I was grabbed by the Orcs and I didn’t…” Bilbo stops, regretting the words he is speaking to his companions. “I didn’t want to go through that again,” Bilbo looks up at Thorin, looking for any signs of betrayal on the dwarf’s face. When he sees not betrayal but sorrow and compassion, Bilbo feels the guilt leaking in.

                “All is okay,” Thorin walks over and sits close to Bilbo. He picks up his fur coat from the edge of the bank and drapes it around Bilbo’s frame. “We are neither Orcs nor a danger to you,” Thorin makes sure Bilbo is looking him in the eyes. “That will not happen again.”

                Bilbo nods as Thorin collapses beside him, huffing heavily.

                His easily accepted lie makes the guilt weigh even heavier. The dwarfs trusted him, accepted his words as the truth. Hobbits were not exceptionally deceptive creatures and Bilbo much preferred a simple life, with dashes of adventure, rather than one of lies and betrayal that he is currently living out.

                He has lied to the group about the ring. He has let them believe that he was kidnapped and dead. He has watched them and not said a thing. He has lied about the trauma, about jumping in and saving the ring.

                Thorin wanted to court him but if he knew what Bilbo has been doing these past few days, he would leave him on the highest mountain and tell him to climb himself down and walk home. There is no compassion in a group of companions for a liar. He wants to come clean. He wants to feel less conflicted but he cannot reveal the ring.

                “You gave us a scare there, Bilbo,” Gandalf remarks as he walks over. The old wizard kneels down in front of Bilbo and when they match gazes, Bilbo just _knows_ that the wizard is aware of things the rest of the group are ignorant in.. Gandalf knows his secrets. Gandalf knows his agenda. So why has  Gandalf not turned him in yet? Why has he let the dwarfs suffer?

                Bilbo collapses next to Thorin and closes his eyes. _Can he disappear again?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The "Invisible" part of the story has been established so now I hope to work on the "Indivisible" part of the story now. Obviously, after disappearing, Bilbo has some problems to work through. He has memories of the ring lingering on his mind and Thorin is trying his best to understand. Also, Gandalf's intentions will be understood in the next few chapters. He is hiding something from the group and Bilbo does not know why. Now that Bilbo is reunited with our favorite dwarfs, Bilbo has a chance to see why Thorin intended to court him before his abduction. ;) The only question... Do those feelings still remain?  
> *Sorry for any mistakes, I was in a rush to update. I'll do a few extra read-throughs after I post so I will most likely catch them as you do :)*


	6. Confessions Among Companions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Bilbo now has his wounds wrapped, it is time for a long over-due conversation with Thorin. Will Bilbo come clean and tell Thorin that he has been following him all along - and will Thorin accept it- or will he lie and continue on with the guilt? A few Bilbo/Thorin moments and many more to follow. Oh, and one more thing, Gandalf is still being as cryptic as ever... only this time Thorin is invested in his words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was planning on having this chapter up by this afternoon (it's EST here by the way) but I did not like how my first attempt turned out so I elected to re-write it. I like it much better now. Thank you all for patiently waiting When I started writing this, I was down a few subscribers but it immediately increased as I am now posting this. You all are amazing. Thank you for the kudos and comments. I plan on having more & more Bilbo/Thorin moments now that they are reunited so I am faced with the problem that I do not know where to cut off the chapter or where to end it, therefore the chapters keep getting longer and longer. I hope you don't mind. Without holding your attention much longer; here is the next chapter of Invisible vs Indivisible! Enjoy!

                “You should sit next to the fire so you dry faster,” Fili walks over. “If night comes upon us and your clothes are still soaked through, you will have a rough time healing up that shoulder.”

                Bilbo nods and pushes himself to stand. Thorin is still lying down as he manages to get himself to a standing position. He walks over to the fire and relishes in the feeling of the flames drying his clothing. A few of the other dwarfs saunter over and take spots around the fire. The sun is still high in the sky, only just starting to descend toward the horizon.

                “Can I speak to you… without the company of our group?” Bilbo can hear Thorin ask Gandalf, both of whom are still lying down by the bank of the pond.

                “If that is what you desire,” Gandalf and Thorin both stand.

                “We will be back in a short while. Hold down the camp,” Thorin nods toward the group around the fire and lastly to Bilbo before the two men disappear into the woods.

                Bilbo cannot hear their conversation and can only imagine what they are talking about. Thorin, undoubtedly, is quite bitter at Gandalf for calling off the search when Bilbo was clearly alive all along.

                However, he is not _supposed_ to know why Thorin is hostile towards the wizard. Therefore, Bilbo decides to act ignorant towards the whole situation. A lie constantly requires vigilance.

                “Why is there so much tension between Thorin and Gandalf?” Bilbo turns to his right to ask Balin. The entire group of dwarfs seems to tense up and after exchanging a few glares, Balin clears his throat.

                “When you were taken from us,” He starts, “Thorin was in a rightful rampage to try and get you back. Gandalf, ever the voice of reason, told us to not follow after you. He was entirely too convinced that you were already gone from our reach. He offered Thorin the ultimatum; search for you and delay our quest, and risk failing it, or carry on and hope for the best. Thorin picked the latter,” Balin then picked up a defensive tone, “But that does not mean that we do not care for you. We took your words into account. You wanted us to help reclaim our home and if we do not do it now, someone else would have,” Balin negotiates and Bilbo just nods, edging closer to the fire as he pulls Thorin’s fur coat tighter around his shoulders.

                Bilbo then lifted up his head and looked at the rest of the dwarfs.

                “Surely delaying us an extra day to give me time to recover is cutting us thin on time?” Bilbo poses the statement as a question and, once again, the dwarfs look at each other.

                Gloin decides to speak up.

                “Grieving is normally what follows a death. You wish you had made different choices. You wish you could have saved the person in order to keep them in your company. We thought you were dead so those wishes crossed our minds. Normally, when a person dies, they do not come back,” Gloin laughs. “You returned and therefore, we have had time to regret our previous decisions.”

                “There is a significant difference between someone being taken away from you and offering them up to be taken,” Bofur adds and the rest of the dwarfs nod.

                “In less eloquent terms,” Kili speaks up. “We all missed you. We all were sad without you and we really do not want to go through that again. Don’t make us go through that again,” Kili begs and Bilbo just laughs.

                “I will try not to make you all suffer but,” Bilbo frowns. “As of late, I am finding myself to be an attraction for danger.”

                “Danger is okay,” Kili adds in. “Danger is fun.” Fili shoves him back out of the ring around the fire while all the rest of the dwarfs laugh without care.

                “If you are able to convince Thorin, I should be okay to ride a horse. If I can follow someone one a lead, I will not have to use my shoulder,” Bilbo looks to some of the older dwarfs.

                “Thorin is sometimes blind to logic when it comes to the things he cares passionately for,” Balin interrupts another exchange of glances.

                “Passionately?” Bilbo asks and Kili, across the fire, coughs on the water he was drinking.

                “He cares about the members of this expedition and he cares about this quest,” Fili jumps in, slapping Kili on the back to help him while he is choking. “If Thorin brings himself to do something, he puts all his passion into it.”

                Bilbo, who is currently supposed to be unaware of Thorin’s feelings, of his intended courting, simply nods and accepts the answer. He knows now who to question about Thorin’s “almost” actions. Kili seems to be the most on edge when he almost slips in crucial information and, if he can get him alone without Fili, Kili is the dwarf who is most likely to spill out little bits of details.

                After a few minutes of the dwarfs and Bilbo sitting in silence, staring down into the flames, Thorin and Gandalf emerge from the woods.

                Bilbo immediately tries to judge their expressions. Gandalf is calm and pensive as ever. He winks at Bilbo with a smile as he sees the hobbit’s curious eyes. Thorin however, has a confused look pasted on his face. The dwarf-king looks like he has just encountered a particularly hard riddle with an answer no one yet has discovered. He shakes his head and clears the expression off his face as he walks over to the fire.

                “Can we talk now?” Thorin kneels down in front of Bilbo, who is still drying himself out with the flames.

                Bilbo looks at Gandalf, who simply nods. The hobbit nods back at Thorin. The dwarf offers out his hand and Bilbo gratefully accepts it and lifts himself off the ground. Thorin then extends a hand out towards the forest.

                “If you were conducting conversations with anyone other than those in our group, I would assume that you were taking them out back to kill them,” Kili remarks and Thorin just lifts an eyebrow and rolls his eyes.

                “That is reassuring,” Bilbo looks at the young dwarf who is gripping his sides as he explodes into laughter.

                “Thorin has his mean moments but I can assure you he is not an orc,” Bofur watches as Fili rolls over on the ground.

                “I offer my word, if you need it, that I will not harm you,” Thorin looks at Bilbo before glaring down at Kili. “If I were killing people, would you not think that Gandalf would not have walked back so smugly?”

                “Smugness is not one of qualities, Thorin,” Gandalf pulls out his pipe. “I am patient and I take the time to analyze each potential journey every single one of us may embark upon, every single outcome and the moments that test our strength. I am prepared and I am old but I am _not_ smug.”

                “Are you quite sure of that, Gandalf?” Bilbo smiles as he puts his hands in his pockets and rolls onto the toes of his feet. “As I recall, you were positively beaming with pride when you mentioned your firework –making abilities. One, other than myself of course, might call that _smug,”_ Bilbo grins from ear to ear and Kili, Fili and Bofur are by the fire, holding hands over their mouths to avoid laughing audibly.

                “And as I recall, Mr. Baggins, my extraordinary firework-making abilities are what you remembered specifically about me. One, other than myself of course, might take pride in such a memory,” Gandalf smiles as he lights his pipe and Bilbo rubs at the back of his head with his good arm. He grins sheepishly. He knows well enough when to stop and to know when he has just been put in his place.

                “Let us spare our hobbit from further embarrassment at the hands of his elders, shall we?” Thorin laughs as he points back to the forest. Bilbo wants to hide his face in the fur coat again.

                The dwarfs decided that this current moment seemed as good as any to stop suppressing their laughter so, as Bilbo walked away all he heard was the unmistakable roaring of excessive dwarf mirth. Thorin just shook his head and Bilbo followed after him into the forest. During the walk, Bilbo slings the fur coat back around Thorin’s shoulders. The dwarf-king accepts it back with a smile.

                Thorin walked deep into the forest, constantly looking over his shoulder to see that Bilbo was still following behind. He occasionally got tripped up on a few roots, as he was focusing more on the pain in his shoulder than the uneven ground, but he always ended up running into Thorin’s back who simply steadied him with a smile. Eventually, the two of them reached another clearing, alongside a stream where two big rocks overlooked the water.

                Thorin climbs atop the tallest rock and looks down at Bilbo. The hobbit, unsure of how much strength he had with one arm, simply leans against the shorter rock and looks up at the dwarf-king.

                “What do you wish to talk about?” Bilbo asks as he bends down with great care, to pick up a handful of rocks.

                Thorin frowns a little. “About what happened when you were taken…” He asks slowly and Bilbo looks up at him with a frown.

                When Bilbo was a little hobbit, he would hear tales of great adventurers who would have to make epic and important decisions in a matter of a split second. This decision would affect the entire course of the quest, the lives of many people and the success of the adventurer. Bilbo felt the weight behind that moment right now. He can come clean and tell Thorin or he can continue with his deceit and sink further into his guilt. Luckily, he has a much longer time to think than the average adventurer. Thorin sits silently as he digs through his mind.

                “Can I,” Bilbo turns his head and puts  a hand up to his face. “Can I be honest with you?” Bilbo asks and the dwarf king leans back on the rock, looking down at Bilbo.

                “I would certainly expect you to,” Thorin responds. “Have you not been so far?”

                Bilbo swallows and recounts his lies. When he escaped from the Goblins, he ended up finding the ring and slipping out. He slipped away from the Orcs with the ring. He followed the group and pretended to be dead. He knows that Thorin wanted to court him. He lost the ring and jumped back into the pond. Everything was just a domino effect with guilty feelings.

                “I do not like the underlying meanings of the word ‘lie’ so I will simply say that I have withheld some of the truth,” Bilbo shifts against the rock.

                “As is the case with many people,” Thorin replies with no rise or fall in his voice. If he is acting, he is quite good at playing nonchalant. “What segments of information has our burglar been withholding from us?”

                “I would tell you to take a seat to hear a tale but, as a small mercy, you are already sitting,” Bilbo smiles before climbing atop the rock and sitting down. The rock brings him closer to eye level with Thorin.

                “When I was taken, when the Orcs overpowered me and carried me off, I managed to get away after only a minute or two. I almost was run over by a few Wargs but I stowed away in the forest and managed to walk back to the camp. I found you before you set off. I followed you guys for a while before revealing myself,” Bilbo looks down and throws a rock from his hand, into the water, and watches as it skips across the surface.

                The silence that follows almost pushes Bilbo to look up and see Thorin’s face.  To resist the urge, he throws a few more rocks into the water, trying to beat his record of 5 jumps. After a minute has passed, Bilbo grips the rock in his hand and decides to face the inevitable. He looks up.

                Thorin is looking down at him with a look he has never seen before. He tries to pick out the individual elements that are mixed up. There is some sadness in there, which is clear. His lips are pulled downward. There is some anger because his eyebrows are raised and pulled together. There is surprise there, judging by the fact that Thorin’s mouth is slightly agape. The slight tilt of his head indicates a small level of confusion. He has not seen the combination before but he knows the question that is bound to follow.

                “Why did you not reveal yourself earlier?” Surprise and anger dissipate.

                Bilbo skips another stone into the water.

                “I feared your reactions, I think,” Bilbo watches the rock fall into the water and sink. “I feared the explanation I would have to give. I figured that it would be less of a burden if, for all the group knew, I had died in that invasion,” The answer was true and the feelings were there. He does not want to reveal the ring just yet. If he can keep that a secret for just a bit longer, he will.

                “Bilbo,” Thorin calls and Bilbo shifts his attention from the rippling water to the dwarf-king. “We would have accepted it if you had offered no explanations so long as you returned us in one piece. Have I not offered you my apologies for belittling you earlier? I do not want to have you thinking you are burden to our group,” Thorin drops his head and sighs. “You would have saved us a lot of despair if you had returned to us.”

                “I know,” Bilbo hangs his head. “It was one of those moments where I had a definite decision to make and I chose the wrong one, the easier one,” Bilbo chucks a stone into the water instead of skipping it with agile fingers. He fleetingly mourns the action. The rock was perfectly circular and flat. “I was that weak creature that was looking out for myself and I wish there were things that I can come out and explain but I cannot. I must not,” Bilbo admits and surprise appears on Thorin’s face again.

                Thorin breathes out before continuing.

                “There are things I can accept if you choose to withhold them. If they do not endanger our group, your secrets can stay your own. Do not think yourself weak for hiding. Sometimes it is in our nature to remove ourselves from the situation as to, as you think it, make things easier for the group. However, Bilbo Baggins, we need you as we need every other member in this group. I awoke one night to take a head count,” Thorin admits and Bilbo knows where he is heading. “I counted each slumbering companion and I came up one short. I was alarmed until I settled down and realized that we had lost one, that we had lost you. That, Mister Baggins, is a feeling I do not plan on reliving any time soon,” Thorin repeats Bilbo’s action and skips a rock against the water.

                “I cannot promise that my secret will not draw attention to us anymore than I can promise that each action I make will, on a grand scheme of things, will affect us in some way. I do not claim to know the infinite amount of paths each of us can take as Gandalf does. I do not even know a few,” Bilbo skips another rock and he feels the ring growing heavier in his pocket.

                “This is something that weighs heavy on your mind,” Thorin speculates and Bilbo just nods as the rock falls in after 4 jumps.  “Can I not relieve some of that weight from your head?”

                Bilbo chokes and runs his head through his hair. “When I was following the group,” Bilbo starts a story, not intending to answer the question. “I saw you all in mourning and I chose to stay hidden. Sometimes I wonder if I have a dark side, if I have a part of me that is slowly being corrupted. Before this expedition, I think the person that set out would have revealed himself almost instantly, to spare the group the pain.” Bilbo lets the rocks fall out of his hands and onto the ground.

                Thorin is silent before speaking. “You speak of this person as if he is not you, as if you two are separate beings.”

                “Maybe we are,” Bilbo whispers. “Maybe that corrupt part of me is slowly becoming who I am and that person who set out is only a fragment of a memory now,” Bilbo closes his eyes and hears the water ripple as Thorin drops a rock in.

                He can hear feet drop to the ground. “What has happened to you to incite such thoughts? You are no more corrupt than any of the other men in our group. You are the same hobbit that set out!” Thorin urges and his voice is closer now, coming from right next to him.

                Bilbo refuses to open his eyes. “I feel differently now. I feel the world differently now. I cannot claim to be ignorant of the things I was so blindly unaware of before,” Bilbo knows he is being cryptic. He knows he is shouting insane rantings to the sun, to Thorin, but he needs things to be said.

                There is a hand on his knee now and Bilbo opens his eyes to Thorin’s sad gaze. “I refuse to accept that the hobbit we had in our company a few days ago has changed so drastically as to label himself corrupt. The hobbit I knew was nothing of the sort. The hobbit I knew, the hobbit sitting here right now, is the farthest thing from it,” Thorin’s grip tightens.

                Bilbo cannot help but to think of Gollum, leering after the ring and talking to it as if the ring were its own entity. He does not want that to be _him_ , a few years down the line.

                Bilbo shakes his head.

                “As the leader of our group, can you promise me something?” Bilbo asks, looking at Thorin with all seriousness in his stare.

                “I can promise you it as a friend,” Thorin does not drop his eyes.

                “If I ever change so much as to endanger the lives of the group, I want you to kill me,” Bilbo needs a contingency plan in case the part of him that craves the ring takes over and he would give up his group for more power.

                Thorin instantly shakes his head.

                “You are speaking in riddles. Has a spell fallen upon you? Why do you doubt yourself? I will not have you speaking about yourself as if you are livestock up for the slaughter! Bilbo, what has happened?” Thorin asks as he shakes Bilbo’s leg, where his hand is resting on the hobbit’s knee.

                “Thorin, please?” Bilbo pleads.

                “No,” The dwarf shakes his head. “If that day ever comes, and it will not, I will do everything in my power to make you change, to bring you back. Gandalf was talking to me about some changes, about some things that you are not able to tell me at this present moment and I will give you my trust. I will give you your secrets but do not offer me a reason to question your belief in yourself. Do not ask me to kill a part of me by killing you...” Thorin’s voice rises. “Because I will not. I cannot,” Thorin suddenly shifts his body and pulls Bilbo down from the rocks. Bilbo is surprised as the dwarf-king wraps two arms around him, pulling him into his fur coat in an enveloping hug. “I have things that I cannot yet tell you but I can tell you this,” Thorin whispers. “You have saved me and I will find a way to save you.”

                Bilbo turns his head into Thorin’s fur coat and tightly closes his eyes to avoid tears from leaking out. He just stands in the hug for a while.

                When he pulls away, Thorin leaves a hand on his shoulder and look him in the eyes.

                “Do I need to worry about you running away, worry about you leaving us in the middle of the night?” Thorin asks.

                “No,” Bilbo shakes his head as he laughs weakly. “That is not something you will ever have to worry about.”

                Thorin smiles before dropping his hand. “Come.” He points to the rocks that they were previously sitting upon.                 “Do not dwell of the corruption you may have in your heart because I do not see it. I do not think it is more than a mere pin-prick. Tell me more of your story,” Thorin claims the taller rock as his seat. “So the game that Fili and Kili were chasing in the woods, the one Fili was convinced that looked like you, was actually you?”

                Thorin laughs when Bilbo nods.

                “That will be a relief for Fili to hear. He was questioning his sanity. The rest of the dwarfs were quite sure that he was going mad from a sudden onset of grief. Tell me, how did you follow us when we were riding and how did you disappear as Kili claimed?” Thorin asks and Bilbo swallows. He asked some questions for which Bilbo had no answers.

                “Will you accept my answer if I claim that it is not something I cannot tell you yet?” Bilbo asks and Thorin closes his eyes and nods.

                “You are alive and safe now so the details do not matter,” Thorin smiles. “I have a strong curiosity now but I have faith that you will someday disclose the answer. So I will ask another, because I believe your answer will have changed. Why did you jump back in the pond?”

                At the look on Bilbo’s face, Thorin laughed again.

                “Another question I must wait to be answered?”

                “Yes, in part.. but as for the fear… It is true. When I fell asleep at night, I would feel the Orcs grabbing me. Worst yet, I was without the group and felt especially vulnerable,” Bilbo looks away and Thorin skips a rock into the water, reaching six skips.

                “As we have promised before, you have our protection. You will not be grabbed again so I hope your mind can be soothed,” Thorin’s voice is soft.

                Bilbo laughs and Thorin tilts his head.

                “You are must less interrogative than I had expected,” Bilbo grins.

                “Do not get me wrong,” Thorin offers out his arms. “I am curious but I will not risk your discomfort for answers. Right now, I can be content that you are alive and that there are some things you cannot share. You must accept the things that I cannot share too. It is a bargain between friends, between companions,” Thorin raises an eyebrow.

                “What can you not tell me?” Bilbo grins.

                “That, dear hobbit, would require me to tell you what I cannot.”

                Bilbo lets his laughter die down before I serious look crosses his face.

                “Are you honestly okay with placing our group in danger by this secret I am holding? When even I do not know what lays in store for us?”

                “Why, Bilbo Baggins, I do not know how you even got the slightest idea that our group is the safe sort. In case you did not read the fine print, we are on a dragon-hunting mission! Your safety, our safety, is never guaranteed. We hardly ever know what is trying to hunt us down but, whatever it is, we will face it together as a group.” Thorin smiles.

                “What will I tell the others?” Bilbo asks Thorin.

                “I will handle the others, you need only handle yourself,” Thorin steps down from the rock and offers his hand out to Bilbo. The hobbit accepts it and slide off his rock.        

                When his feet are firmly on the ground, Thorin pulls him back into a one-armed hug.

                “I hope you feel better from these small confessions,” Thorin breaths against Bilbo’s hair. “This corruption that you fear, I do not think it is something you have to worry about. Someone who is beyond help does not feel the guilt that comes with undisclosed information. I saw the way it weighed on you. You are not corrupt, Bilbo. I have seen many qualities within you but none of them were ever ones that tainted your being,” Thorin laughs and released him.

                “Thank you,” Bilbo bows. “And I hope to know this information that you cannot tell me just yet,” He smiles. If Thorin does not want to talk about the courtship, just as Thorin is giving him time, he will give him moments to gather his thoughts.

                “I will show you rather than tell you, hopefully,” Thorin looks back and waits for Bilbo to catch up as they walk back to camp. 

                “What did Gandalf tell you?” Bilbo asks, looking up at the dwarf.

                “He told me what I needed to know,” Thorin pulls his fur coat closer. “He reinforced things I knew. We need you in our group and you are back. I need time to think things through as do you. He told me that you and I walk on paths that have finally converged. Gandalf is a curious man,” Thorin chuckles. “He can be cryptic and still convincing.”

                “Do you accept what he has to say?” Bilbo squints.

                “Yes, because I have a selfish interest in believing that his words are true,” Thorin grins.

                “How so?” _Is this related to the courting?_

“Someday, I will show you,” Thorin places a hand on Bilbo’s shoulder and urges him forward. “Now come, let us take a weight off of Fili’s mind and assure him that he is not losing his wits. We must also rewrap your wound.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep ending on cliff-hangers so I hope this is a little more refreshing. It is a more hopeful note. Many of you comment wishing for happy endings and, trust me, I am as much of a sucker for happy endings as you guys are. I, however, believe on working for your happy ending. For the sake of this story, and to avoid all of the feels that accompany it, I may actually neglect to acknowledge the ending of the Hobbit book/series. Mainly due to the fact that I CAN. Thank you all for staying with me as I work on this story. It's my first Hobbit fic and I am constantly getting more and more invested into this plot-line. I will look for a beta-reader but I have weird writing/updating times and I've had bad experiences in the past (people trying to overly dominate my writing style in favor of their own) so I hope my own editing is good enough for now. If you catch anything odd, just comment or message me and I would love the feedback. I will update as soon as I can. Thanks for reading! -Side note: As it looks, this story may extend to over 10 chapters, this being the sixth. I have some ends I need to tie up and some relationships to develop ;)- //Moirai


	7. When the Eyes Betray What the Heart Wants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Bilbo is reunited with the group, he has to convince Thorin to continue on with the mission. Knowing that they cannot camp out where they have just slain orcs, Nori suggests that the group heads into a mountain pass to seek refuge with some accomplices of his. The group make their way to the dwarven hall in order to seek sanctuary. Bilbo meets some new dwarfs, gets his shoulder looked at and a jealous Thorin appears just as a dwarf forcibly pushes himself on Bilbo. Chapter Seven is up!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First Note: Thank you all for reading and reviewing. The amount of kudos, hits and comments is really overwhelming (in a good way). You make my story feel very loved :) I will keep updating for all you lovely people  
> Second Note: I would have updated sooner but this chapter is substantially longer than the rest and therefore took me longer to write and edit. I was heading towards this chapter for a while now and it will be sort of a turning point in this story line (Read and figure out why!). We get to see a little of jealous and protective Thorin in this chapter as well. After this point, the storyline will pick up speed! :) We can't have courting in the midst of orc invasions after all (actually, that sounds a lot like my writing style!) Without further ado, here is Chapter Seven, enjoy!

                “I told you it was not an illusion induced by grief!” Fili smiles as he shoves his brother over.

                Kili simply brushes off his clothes and flashes a smile.

                Bilbo stands sheepishly next to Thorin who was addressing his group of dwarfs. At first, the dwarfs lookat Bilbo with betrayed looks, small traces of anger lingering on their faces. By the time Thorin finished talking, the looks subsided to glances of sympathy and understanding.

                Fili took the words with the greatest relief, sighing as Bilbo confessed that he was the one they were hunting in the forest. Bilbo also knew that Fili would be the most skeptical of all of the dwarfs. When they were running in the forest, Fili directly saw Bilbo disappear. He had a strong look at him before he slipped the ring on and he immediately disappeared right after. Other than magic, there was no other explanation as to how he could have disappeared into thin air. Kili and Balin ran into the clearing too late and never saw Bilbo directly.

                No matter the suspicion that was building within him, Fili stayed silent and nodded along to Thorin’s words. Occasionally, he would shoot a confused and concerned look towards Bilbo but as soon as the hobbit turned his head to look directly at the young dwarf, Fili looked away.

                “I find it hard to believe that my arrows could not find a hobbit,” Kili shakes his head and pulls his quiver out from behind his back. He withdraws a single arrow and observes the tip, the shaft and the back end. When he removes his eyes from the arrow, he shrugs and shoves it back in the quiver.

                “We should be thankful that it did not,” Balin proclaims and some of the dwarfs laugh.

                “It would have been quite the surprise if Kili went to bring home dinner and brought home our dear hobbit,” Gloin laughs.

                “Are we neglecting the fact that I would have been dead?” Bilbo raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms.

                “Not at all but dwarfs are quite fond of irony,” Bofur grins. Bifur grunts next to him.

                “No matter the path he took to return to us, Bilbo is back and we should all be thankful,” Thorin grins and pats Bilbo on the shoulder. He takes his seat around the fire with the rest of the dwarfs. While the dwarfs nod empathetically along, Bilbo decides to sit next to Thorin.

                “Thorin,” Oin addresses, “Mister Baggins brought up an interesting suggestion before you two departed for a conversation.”

                A confused look graces the hobbit’s features before realization kicks in. Thorin looks down at Bilbo, interest clearly evident.

                “What was this suggestion then?” Thorin asks, reaching down to scratch at his beard.

                “The thing I desire the very least is to hold up this quest. Not when the stakes are quite so high,” Bilbo appeals to Gandalf and Thorin. “I am feeling much better now, my shoulder does not give me quite as much pain, and if someone was to lead my horse and I did not need to use my shoulder, I should be able to head out as soon as possible.” Bilbo looks at Oin who smiles and nods.

                “No,” Thorin says almost instantly.  

                “Thorin, you gave that absolutely no time for thought,” Oin chastises with a frown.

                “The topic has been on my mind for a while now. There are certainly a great number of decisions I have given considerably less thought to but this is not one of those,” Thorin looks at Oin before turning his attention to Bilbo. “You say you are fine to ride now but what if something comes and spooks the horses and you get thrown? What if we get attacked on one of the roads and the person leading you has to abandon their horse? How will you defend yourself if Orcs attack? The argument that you can leave now rests on the sole condition that everything goes well and according plan. Those are the arguments that do not bode well with me,” Thorin lectures and Bilbo has the strong urge to hide away.

                “While I think both of your arguments hold some merit,” Gloin starts and Thorin scoffs. “And both arguments hold some flaws…” He adds. “We cannot stay here Thorin. This place reeks of death due to our last encounter with Orcs. If another squad comes, and _they will_ if we stay here, we are at a disadvantage. We need to move Thorin, whether you like the idea or not.”

                Thorin sighs before looking over and eyeing up Bilbo.

                “We appreciate your concern for our group welfare but you know Orcs will come scouting for the missing squad,” Bombur comments once more before nodding at Bilbo.

                “You asked for warriors and warriors you have received,” Gandalf comments with a twinkle in his eyes. “Your dwarfs are wise. It is in our best interest to pack up and place some distance between ourselves and this location before nightfall. The Orcs _will_ come.”

                Thorin holds his breath and stares up at the sky. “And you Balin?” He asks. “What are your thoughts on the subject?”

                The old dwarf smiles sadly. “My thoughts lie with the majority, Thorin.”

                “So it seems I am outnumbered,” Thorin looks at Bilbo. “We will set out in a short while. Go ready the horses and someone run a lead line between my horse and Bilbo’s. I will not slow down the group by double-riding one of the horses even though I think it unwise to let Bilbo ride alone.”

                “Are we headed towards any specific resting spot?” Nori asks, a little skittishly. He rubs at the back of his head. The rest of the dwarfs focus their attentions on him.

                “Have we set out before with a specific resting spot in mind?” Thorin answers his question with another questions and a smirk.

                “No, but I thought-“ Nori stops himself before sighing. “With Bilbo injured and all, it is not best for us to camp out in the open. If we ride out towards the mountains, we can stay in the company of some… accomplices I know. Their dwellings offer substantial protection and they will welcome us warmly. Also to add, it will not pull us far from our path,” Nori pleads, looking at Dori and Ori with a nervous smile.

                “I will not risk our mission by confiding details of our quests with other clans,” Thorin answers sternly.

                “They are of the sort where they will not ask,” Nori swallows and bounces on his feet a little.

                “Are they of the sort to ask or infer as to our group objectives?” Thorin raises an eyebrow.

                “They all have motives of their own. They will not ask,” Nori reinforces. He does not stand straight in front of the king. His back is bent and his head is hung. He asks with conviction but his posture proves him lower in authority.

                “Then I am guessing our safety is guaranteed so long as we guarantee our own safety?” Thorin smiles as if catching on to Nori’s underlying meaning.

                “Exactly how they phrase it as well,” Nori grins.

                “While it is not the most strategic of moves,” Thorin rolls his eyes. “We will seek their refuge tonight.” Nori grins and runs off to pack his stuff. Dwalin and Ori rise with a nod and head over to the horses while the other dwarfs stand to pack up their stuff.

                “Where are we headed?” Bilbo questions, unsure what to make of the exchange that just took place.

                “To a city, a dwelling, of thieves, outcasts and loners,” Thorin exhales and smiles.

                “Is that safe?” Bilbo’s eyes widen. 

                “Alone, without notice? No. But in a group of many armed dwarfs?  Safer than camping in the middle of the forest. We are past the comforts of safety. Now we reach for lesser degrees of danger.” Thorin reaches down and runs his fingers over the hilt of his blade.

                “Oh, very well,” Bilbo gulps.

                “Are you making an effort to force me to go against my beliefs?” Thorin questions when the rest of the dwarfs scatter to make themselves busy. Gandalf chuckles from the other side of the fire.

                “N-No,” Bilbo stutters. “I aim to do no such thing. I, like the rest, appreciate your concern for my welfare but I, better than anyone, know the limits of my body,” Bilbo holds his chin up. He is trying desperately to make Thorin see his side.

                “While you know your limits you have yet to discover that pushing it to exactly below the limit is not the smartest thing to do,” Thorin stands and looks down to the hobbit. “Have Ori wrap your shoulder again before we leave.” Thorin walks quickly away and heads towards his horse.

                Bilbo and Gandalf are the only souls that remain by the fire.

                “Do not fret, Bilbo,” Gandalf smiles. “Thorin tries to keep his main focus on the mission but sometimes his heart gets in the way. While some may debate that it is not the best quality for a king to have, Thorin has never held much regard for titles,” Gandalf stands as well and heads over to rest of the group, most of them currently packing their horses.

                Bilbo sits in silence, even as Oin comes and redresses his wounds. The ointment stings and the pull of bandages burn. Bilbo watches the group pack. Thorin watches his wounds being dressed.               

                When the whole process is done, Bilbo walks over to his horse and re-checks to make sure all of his belongings are stored away. His horse nuzzles against his face and elicits a smile across Bilbo’s lips. He runs his hands over the horse’s mane while the horse carefully pushes its nose against Bilbo’s injured shoulder. The horse backs up and snorts but Bilbo presses forward and continues to stroke his mane. The horse eventually calms down and stands still next to the hobbit.

                “Are we ready to set out?” Thorin beckons and the company, every single dwarf, nods in response. Bilbo nods only a second after. “A little forewarning,” Thorin addresses. “When we reach our resting spot for the night, do not disclose any objectives of our mission. Speak not of Erebor nor the reason behind our travel. If they press hard enough, we are off to negotiate mining rights near our old village. They will not inquire. Stay close to one another. Your safety is guaranteed as long as they do not think you weak or a threat,” Thorin nods and the rest of the dwarfs mount their horses. Bilbo simply looks up and thinks of a way to mount his steed. Before he can strain his mind on the topic, he is lifted up by two hands on his waist. His foot is pushed into the stirrup and Bilbo pulls himself into the saddle. When he looks down, Thorin is walking back to his horse and mounting up.

                He tests the lead on his horse and looks back to inspect the lead attached to Bilbo’s horse. When he finds it sufficient, they set off.

                Occasionally, Bilbo hits points in the path where he has to grab both reins and he ends up jerking his shoulder around. Thorin does not ask about the pain or his wellbeing, he simply looks forward and shakes his head.

                “Don’t take it to heart,” Bofur whispers from his left. “Thorin dislikes being outvoted.”

                Bilbo grins as Thorin shoots a dirty look from over his shoulder.

                They ride on for a few hours and, as the sun dips further into the sky, they reach the foot of some rocky mountains. A single, unsteady and upward ascending path curls around the mountain. Bilbo sweats and winces at the thought of heading up with only one good arm and shoulder.

                “The way you rode here without directions makes me wonder as to your preferred company,” Gandalf smiles at Thorin who stops the horses and dismounts.

                “I do not need to visit here often to know of its location. Sometimes the worst-seeming acquaintances are the best to have,” Thorin grins as he walks over to Bilbo’s horse. He holds a hand up to the hobbit. Bilbo shoots him a confused look. “We are to ride up the mountain and you will find a hard time if you elect to ride alone. Come, my horse can bear the weight for a brief ascent and you do not have a lot of meat on those bones,” Thorin grins and Bilbo thinks for a minute before taking the hand and climbing down off the horse.

                Kili grins to the right of Bilbo before Fili shoots him a dirty look. He is silenced quickly.

                Once again, Thorin picks up Bilbo and guides his foot into the stirrup. His horse behind him pulls back a little and seems to glare down Bilbo. Bilbo just shoots him a smile and mounts into the saddle. He edges up as far as we can. Thorin mounts the horse as well. With a single hand he moves Bilbo back in the seat gently and grabs the reins in front of him.

                “If you fall off the path, there is more to worry about than your shoulder,” Thorin remarks and leads his horse forward. Bilbo sits awkwardly in the saddle as Thorin looks around, monitoring for any signs of danger. As they reach one of the highest parts of the mountain, the horses grow uneasy at the narrow path and the dwarfs are forced to file one by one into the pass.

                Bilbo looks down from the highest point and sees that the path descends into a valley, darkness wrapping around the stones. The sun is setting now and as they stand on a high point in the path, the temperature drops.

                “This does not seem ominous at all,” Bilbo shakes his head and can feel the rumble of Thorin’s chest behind him as he laughs.

                “No matter their reputation, they are our kin,” Thorin speaks from behind Bilbo. “And while you hobbits are accustomed to wide open sunny areas, we dwarfs are accustomed to the dark and homey feeling of mountain passes and caverns, mines and caves.”

                “You said we are only so safe as we can guarantee our own safety,” Bilbo swallows.

                “Indeed, I did,” Thorin responds.

                “I am a bit weakened at the moment so I do not know if I can, you know… Protect myself from many dwarfs,” Bilbo finishes with a nod. He warms his hands by burying them in the horse’s coat.

                “You are in the company of more dwarfs,” Thorin laughs again. “We are your protection.”

                Bilbo smiles before nodding as the horses turn to the downward path. As they descend, Bilbo can make out shifting shadows around him, the sound of footsteps and metal moving.

                “Thorin,” Bilbo says uneasily.

                “They are dwarfs,” Thorin calms him. “They are merely scoping us out for threats.”

                As they continue down the path they see dug up holes on the ground and metal structures rising up toward the dark sky. In the distance, Bilbo can make out the figures of several armed dwarfs. A huge iron-wrought door lays just behind them, built into the mountain. They are in the middle of the two valleys now; one behind them and one in front of them behind the door. On either side of them are large rocky walls with wooden contraptions, catapults by the look of it, standing strong and as a threat above them.

                “Keep your head down,” Thorin whispers to Bilbo before he reaches behind Bilbo’s jacket and pulls his hood up and around his face. Bilbo nods and lowers his gaze. “If you act like you are severely injured,” Thorin chuckles, “It might even grant us access more quickly.”

                Bilbo nods and swallows deeply, trying to force paleness onto his face. He grabs at his shoulder lightly and Thorin holds a hand around his waist.

                “These are some unfamiliar faces here,” Bilbo makes out a booming laugh from in front of their procession.  “What business does Thorin Oakenshield and his company have within our caverns?”

                “We are making our way around the forest and we wish to seek refuge for the night,” Thorin speaks with authority.

                “Who do you have with you, Thorin Oakenshield?” Another voice asks in a deep tone.

                “An injured hobbit companion of ours, a wizard and twelve other dwarfs beside myself, ” Thorin says calmly. He reaches back and pulls back Bilbo’s hood. The hobbit does his best to act the part and fakes a pain look on his face. He monitors the scene only through squinted eyes. “A Warg decided to make him his next meal.” Bilbo acts a little limp and is surprised as Thorin shifts his weight to hold him up in the saddle.

                There are approximately twenty or so dwarfs in front of them, flanking of the large door. They are armed with their weapons in hand. Three dwarfs stand in front of the rest an are most likely the ones speaking to Thorin.  The front one has fire-red hair and a long, braided beard. Besides him are two brown-bearded dwarfs, wielding impressive axes.

                Another dwarf emerges from the metal door and works his way to the front of the crowd. He has stringy white hair, gray eyes and a long trimmed beard.

                “Thorin and Company,” He addresses. “Kubla Darktracker passed along his greetings and wishes to relay that you and your companions are more than welcome in our halls. He also asks to pass along his gratitude for the workers you sent over last winter when our outer halls needed extensive renovation,” The dwarf bows and Thorin tips his head in gratitude. “Take your injured companion to the healing halls, immediately.” The dwarfs that were behind the main four instantly move to open the large gates. The huge iron doors open up to lit up halls, adorned with multiple torches.  The walls are carved deep in the mountain valley, held up by iron frameworks. 

                The dwarfs behind him, those in his company, start to dismount their horses and grab their packs. The dwarves from the new halls guide their horses away. Thorin, with Bilbo and Gandalf were the last to dismount. Thorin keeps Bilbo close.

                “Is he able to walk?” A dwarf asks in front of Thorin.

                “Ay, and he is able to talk,” Thorin answers. He keeps a steady hand on Bilbo’s back. Thorin pulls his pack from the horse and swings it on his back. Bilbo briefly worries about his own equipment but does not fret so much as to distract him from his new surroundings. Thorin glances over his horse once more time before patting his head and sending him off with other dwarfs. Bilbo can see Bofur shouldering not only his bag but Bilbo’s as well.

                “They will be taken to the stables,” A dwarf looks at Thorin. “They are in need of some food and cleaning.”

                “Your hospitality is more than I expected or predicted,” Thorin bows. “Thank you very much.” Thorin guides Bilbo forward into the cave as the last dwarf bows back and scatters. The dwarf army parts to let them through.

                Bilbo is used to hobbit holes being built into mountains but nothing ever prepared him for the sight of the dwarven halls. They rise high, to the height of nearly twenty dwarfs stacked on top of each other, and are carved stone with iron beams supporting the ceiling. There are some battle scene carved into the smoothed out stone and, at their feet, designs made out of white stone are laid into the ground, in horizontal strips to mark the path. The torches are more than bright enough to guide their way. Bilbo almost forgets to breathe.

                “Is this your first time inside a dwarf dwelling?” Thorin laughs in a low voice.

                “It is and it is most impressive,” Bilbo remarks weakly.

                “Is it safe to assume then, that the workers I sent over were quite adept at refinishing these halls?” Thorin calls out to an unknown dwarf in front of them.

                “Very much so,” The dwarf responds in a deep voice. “They were quick and skilled workers. They put our own workers to shame. Shall I take him to the healing halls?” Bilbo feels the weight of several gazes upon him.

                “I wish to accompany him if it is not too troublesome to ask,” Thorin keeps his hand close to Bilbo’s back.

                “If you so desire, you can follow along,” The dwarf nods and they continue down the hall.

                The hallway in front of them forks off into two direction and Thorin turns to look back at their rather large company.

                “Kili, Fili, Gloin and Oin ,” Thorin calls out and the four dwarfs emerge. “Can you follow me to the healing halls?” The dwarfs nod enthusiastically. “The rest of you can stay together and go head back with our kin,” The other dwarfs, whose names were not called out, grin even wider and take the left fork.  Gandalf tips his hat before pointing to the left fork and following them off.

                Without another word, the rest of the group, now cut down to six and a few foreign dwarfs, head down the right side of the hallway. It grows wider and wider as they walk. Eventually, they come to a large room, square in size. The iron beams grow more intricate and the room is adorned with several tables, unoccupied beds, sinks and baths. Frames are carved wood while the fixtures are seamless metal pieces. The woodwork on the furniture is ornate even at a distance. The ceiling has carvings of various pictures, with dragons, dwarves, elves and monster scenes. The craftsmanship captivates Bilbo and Thorin has to push him forward in order to get him to continue walking.

                When the group enters the room, the foreign dwarfs that were leading them scatter off and disappear. Thorin walks Bilbo to a bed and encourages him to sit and pull his feet up.

                “Bilbo,” Oin walks over. “Remove your shirts,” He encourages. “I know the healer here and he will get you back to feeling like before you were Warg food.” The dwarf offers a smile and Thorin nods along. Kili and Fili stay back and lean against the doorframe of the room. Gloin leans against the wall opposite Bilbo’s bed.

 Bilbo carefully reaches down to undo his shirts, wincing at the pain in his shoulder as he does. His jacket and top shirt come off rather quickly and he makes quite an effort removing his borrowed white undershirt.

                “Opposed to helping him?” Oin laughs next to Thorin. Their voices are quiet.

                “Helping to dress and undress another has different meanings from one another,” Thorin smirks. “One insinuates compassion of a helping nature while the other one is compassion of a baser nature.”

                Bilbo eventually inches out of his bottom shirt and lays down shirtless on the bed. The mattress is soft and the sheets are smooth. He can see himself falling asleep in here.

                Bilbo turns his head to see an older dwarf slowly walking into the room. Kili and Fili watch with acute interest.

                “Oin,” The dwarf says as walks in. “I see I have a patient.” He bows to Oin and Thorin.

                “Faro,” Oin greets. “It is a pleasant surprise to see you again, although on less than happy circumstances.”

                “Indeed,” The dwarf comments. He looks down at Bilbo. “Now what has happened to you, lad?” He asks calmly. He has a long braided white beard and white hair. Instead of chain-mail, he is dressed in woven red and brown robes. His hair is tied in the back, away from his face. His brown eyes analyze Bilbo’s shoulder.

                “I was almost eaten by a Warg,” Bilbo answers softly.

                “Well, well,” The dwarf walks over. “I am Faro Deepoath, the healer of these halls. If you will allow me a glimpse of your shoulder, I might be able to take some of your pain away.” Instead of the deep booming voices of the dwarfs in the halls before, his is soft and calm. Bilbo just nods.

                “A companion of yours?” Faro asks Thorin with a smile. “I have never treated a hobbit before.”

                “Aye he is,” Thorin smiles behind him.

                Faro slowly unwraps the bandages on Bilbo’s shoulder and tuts at the look of his shoulder. 

                “The paste is yours, Oin?” He asks with a light note in his voice.

                “It is,” Oin speaks with pride.

                “You did a good job of containing the wounds but some of these larger puncture wounds need to be stitched, ‘less your hobbit here develops a nasty infection,” Faro speaks to Oin directly.

                “Stitched?” Bilbo asks with a tiny bit of panic in his voice.

                “It outweighs the alternative,” Faro pats his leg comfortingly. “Infection.”

                “Are you able to do the stitching?” Thorin speaks up.

                “Thorin Oakenshield, it is an insult to a healer to ask if he can do something so crude as stitching. Any well knowledged warrior can stitch up a being,” Faro shakes his head.

                “I meant no insult,” Thorin apologizes.

                “Yes, I know.” Faro nods before reaching over to the table next to Bilbo’s bed and digging around. He withdraws a glass bowl with a needle and thread in it. Bilbo eases himself back onto the fur pillows. Thorin keeps him on the bed with a hand on his back.

                “There are only a few holes Master-“ Faro stops.

                “Bilbo Baggins,” Bilbo answers politely.

                “Yes, Master Baggins. If you sit still for me, I can try to keep the pain to a minimum,” Faro offers calmly and Bilbo just takes a deep breath and nods.  He looks to Thorin for advice. He receives none.

                Faro wipes down his shoulder with a wet, strong smelling cloth and Bilbo winces. When he sees the needle coming towards his shoulder, Bilbo winces even more and closes his eyes. He grinds his teeth when he feels it dig into his skin. He groans a little in pain and opens his eyes, trying to avoid the sight of the needle. When he looks towards Thorin, he sees sadness. Thorin offers his hand palm up and Bilbo grabs it and squeezes, closing his eyes again. The procedure continues and Faro stitches up ten of the largest bite wounds in the front and leans him forward to stitch seven in the back. He wipes it back down with the cloth when he is finished. He applies more of Oin’s paste and redresses the wound, this time with tighter and more secure bandages. When he is done, Bilbo moves his shoulder and feels that the pain has, for the most part, subsided.

                “That should allow you more use of your arm,” Faro smiles.

                “Thank you so much!” Bilbo happily grins and moves to stand up. “It feels like I was barely bitten once, let alone twice!”

                “Your happiness is thanks enough, young hobbit,” Faro holds up a hand. “Infection is not out of worry, yet. You need to keep your wound clean and you need to eat plentifully. Your body needs the energy to stitch itself back together. When the wounds have healed, Oin can remove the thread for you.”

                “Thank you again,” Bilbo nods.

                “Will you join us for a drink in the Great Hall?” Faro looks to Fili, Kili, Oin and Thorin. He glances over to Gloin.

                “I will but first I must meet with your leader, Kubla, to extend to him my gratitude for offering us sanctuary. Bilbo, Kili, Fili, Gloin and Oin will follow you to the Great Hall though,” Thorin bows before placing a hand on Bilbo’s shoulder. “Follow the rest to the hall and I shall meet with you and the others shortly.” Bilbo nods in confirmation.

                Thorin tips his head to Kili and Fili who simply move forward towards the bed.

                “You need no accompaniment?” Fili asks his uncle.

                “If they wished harm upon us here, we would already be dead,” Thorin smiles and walks away, heading down the hallway. Bilbo redresses himself with the help of Faro.

                When everyone is ready, they head back down the hall to the fork and make a left.

                Bilbo has to sort through the immense crowds of dwarfs before he can see Gandalf and the rest of the dwarfs sitting with company around the table, laughing, eating and downing a few steins of beer. Kegs lay against the wall of the Great Hall. Bilbo scopes out the room. The hall is even larger than the healing hall and is lined with eight, long, wooden tables that stretch from the front to the back of the room. At the front, a horizontal table looks over the other eight and is carved with even more ornate designs. Metal chandeliers line the ceiling and are lit with many candles. The hall is surrounded in a comforting glow. A stone fireplace, the size of several wargs stacked and lined up, sits in the back of the hall.

                Seven of the eight tables are full of dwarfs and Bilbo’s group is two tables in. Many dwarfs look at him curiously when he enters the room. Bilbo lowers his head and sticks close to Gloin as he makes his way over to the table. He can hear whispers of curiosity and amusement as he passes along.

                “These must be the other four dwarfs in your company and the hobbit you were telling tales about!” A dwarf yells with a hearty laugh. He stands to great them. “Welcome, Welcome! I am Gire!” The dwarf stands beside Bofur and has reddish-brown hair and a short beard.  As Bilbo’s companions sit down, they shake his hand. When Bilbo makes his way over, the dwarfs hand completely envelop his own small one and he shakes with great force. “Sit, sit. These men here are,” he points to the unknown dwarfs in a line, “Todik, Ouka, Eari, Dari, Forrur, Keto, Neto, Fsar, Honfir and Bedle.” Individually, when their names are called, the dwarfs nod or tip their heads.

                Bilbo barely remembers two of them. When he sits down next to Gloin and Gandalf, a large stein of alcohol, mead or ale most likely, is shoved in front of him along with a plate of meat and potatoes.

                “Where is Thorin?” Gandalf asks as he pats Bilbo’s shoulder.

                “Meeting with-“ Bilbo fights to remember the leader’s name.

                “Kubla most likely,” Gandalf finishes and Bilbo takes a sip of the stein in front of him. He gags at the strength.

                A dwarf, Forrur if he can remember right, laughs with a booming sound. “Is the hobbit not accustomed to dwaven stout?”

                Bilbo shakes his head and glares down at the dark drink. So that is what it was- stout.

                Bilbo elects instead to eat what is in front of him, a leg of meat and some various other pieces of animal flesh. He digs in and is not discriminate, devouring with great hunger the food on his plate. It is spiced well and hearty and several dwarfs shove bread onto his plate. They ask him questions about hobbits and his home, about food and about spices and he is more than happy to answer. They seem rather interested in Hobbit architecture and the Shire.

                Around him, the dwarfs are all smiling and singing, drinking and eating. They encourage Bilbo to take several more sips of the strong stout. He has not even made a dent in the drink when he begins to feel a little light-headed. The other dwarfs in his company, Bofur, Nori and Dori are all singing with one another and Bilbo cannot help but smile in his current state. He shoves his plate out of the way and rubs his stomach with a content feeling. The dwarfs shove his drink in front of him and encourage him to drink even more.

                “There is more stout to go around!” Gire proclaims and the rest of the dwarfs cheer. He reaches down and refills Bilbo’s drink up to the top.

                “I would hate to ask,” Bilbo looks to Gloin with a half-drunken smile. “But are there no dwarven women?”

                Gloin laughs and chugs at his own drink. “Aye, there are. They hardly celebrate with us men and if they are, you will not notice them like we do!” Gloin holds his drinks up. “We dwarfs are stubborn and place our crafts before romance!” The rest of the men toast him. Gloin leans down and whispers into Bilbo’s ear. “But that is foreign to me. I have a wife of my own!” Gloin smiles and points to a ring on his finger with a wide grin.

                Bilbo’s eyes widen and he offers his congratulations.

                “So celebration is simply among men?” Bilbo asks.

                “Yes, as per customs. We protect our women so they do not see many other races. Only a third of our population is women after all, Bilbo! Less than a third of us are married, although we do marry for life,” Gloin proclaims proudly while looking at his ring again. “We protect our women.”

                “Must make for a lot of lonely dwarf men,” Bilbo grins and looks around the room. 

                “Some would think that but, as men, even dwarfs have primal needs. Women are not always needed you know, boy,” Gloin winks and smiles. He takes a sip of his drink. 

                Some of the dwarfs move away from the table to mingle among the other long ones, singing and celebrating in their drunken merriment. A new dwarf, about Bofur or Ori’s age, slides in the empty seat next to the hobbit and smiles at Bilbo.  He has long curly reddish-brown hair, brown eyes and a medium-length beard.

                “Greetings!” He smiles and his breath comes out with a strong smell of alcohol. “I am Donri! You must be Bilbo Baggins, the hobbit they were talking about!” He holds out his hand and Bilbo takes it. “You know, I have never seen a hobbit in these halls before. Then again, I have never seen a hobbit at all!” Donri is slurring his words a little and his eyelids are dropping gradually. Bilbo smirks.

                “Yes, and I have never been in a dwarf hall before! Though, I have seen dwarfs,” Bilbo exclaims and takes a drink.

                “Really, and what are your thoughts?” Donri asks as he takes another sip from his cup.

                “They are quite remarkable. I have never seen anything like it,“ Bilbo looks around the room with mirth shining in his eyes. “I was concerned that it was going to be dark and damp but it is quite warm and welcoming.”

                “Thank you,” Donri smiles back. “I am quite fond of this place. Hobbits are quite curious!” He exclaims suddenly.

                “How so?” He asks. Gloin behind Bilbo gets up and heads to talk to Gandalf who has since moved to an alternate table. Almost all of the company has already scattered to new tables.

                “Dwarfs often are joked at for being quite short but hobbits are half-sized as well, if not smaller. Hobbits are not talked about much, other than out of remarks attesting to your docile lifestyles.”

                “Ah, have I defiled your expectations then?” Bilbo laughs.

                “More than I had ever imagined,” Donri nods again. “I was not expecting such a stature and intelligence. You are quite attractive too,” He adds and Bilbo chokes on his drink, sputtering a little. He looks away with a laugh.

                “Thank you,” Bilbo responds, not sure what else to say in the situation.

                “Being surrounded by dwarfs all the time makes you admire the things that stand out,” Donri is looking Bilbo up and down and Bilbo looks around for the rest of his company.

                “Thank you again,” Bilbo remarks again to the compliment. He knows nothing of this new dwarf except for a name and a general impression. _Thorin has to be returning sometime soon right_? He recalls what Gloin said about dwarf men enjoying themselves and he swallows a little.

                “I am terribly sorry,” Donri looks at Bilbo with a half-smile. “I hope you do not think this too forward of me but-” He interrupts himself and suddenly leans forward and pulls Bilbo in. He forcefully kisses Bilbo and maneuvers him against a table so he can’t get away. There is a hand placed against his thigh and another wrapped around his abdomen.

                 Bilbo panics and tries to get away but the dwarf has a strong hold on him against the table. Bilbo tries to pry his face away from Donri’s but is unsuccessful. The dwarf’s hand moves upwards, to rest in an uncomfortable and private location. Bilbo tries to push and ends up moving his shoulder harshly, groaning in pain. The dwarf must take this as confirmation to carry on and only deepens the kiss. The blood rushes to Bilbo’s head as he tries to think of ways to get away. His hand inches back to grab the stein on the table behind him. Donri continues assaulting his face. He feels as if the whole room is silent and staring at him as he struggles to free himself from the dwarf’s grasp. The stein is just barely out of reach.

                Suddenly, Bilbo feels the dwarf pulling his face away from his own and Bilbo breaths in deep and struggles against the dwarf to extricate himself from the grasp.

                He was not just thinking that the hall was silent because now it actually is. The entire hall was staring at him and his sudden forced love affair, some in fear and others in confusion. Bilbo glares down at Donri. Some of the members in his company have their weapons ready to be drawn, hands on bows and hilts of axes and swords.

                Before he can look up, a voice comes from behind the forceful dwarf.

                “I will suggest that you remove your hand from my hobbit,” The voice asks. “Or I will remove it for you.” The voice is laced with anger and bitterness and when Bilbo looks up, he can see Thorin glaring daggers down at Donri, his sword in his hand and pointed at the dwarf. Beside him, is an equally tall dwarf with long curly black hair and green eyes. This new dwarf is also sporting a look of anger.

                The alcohol and the blood drain away from Bilbo’s head.              

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Gasp* A cliff-hanger again? Who could have ever predicted that? Except for, well... everyone who has read this story before. But it is one of those good cliff-hangers. Does Thorin kill the guy for touching Bilbo? Does he have something worse in store for him? Thorin has just revealed at least some of his feelings, how will Bilbo react? All these questions will be answered... soon. This makes this the last chapter of this year! I hope you have enjoyed and please review and tell me what you think! I love to read and reply to your comments! Normally, I try to stick with more descriptive writing but the amount of plot that had to be shoved into this chapter was pretty outrageous. Also, sometimes I get this weird fandom mix-up and write Thor and Thorin.. because I love the Avengers too. I normally catch all of them but, in case I don't, it is still the dwarf-king and not the Norse-God randomly appearing in my stories. Have a good New Years Eve guys! Thank you so much for all of your support.


	8. Secrets and Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After being assaulted in the main hall by a dwarf, Thorin arrives to see an incriminating scene. Now, Bilbo must defend himself and his honor in order to push Donri to face his punishment. Also, Bilbo corners Kili for a talk and Thorin comes clean and has a chat with Bilbo about referring to Bilbo as 'his' hobbit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that last few days have been crazy. Happy 2013 Everyone. First Chapter this year!   
> I went to the movie theater to see The Hobbit again today. It is even better the second time  
> I am still overly impressed by all the reviews and comments that this story has received. You guys continue to blow me away. Thank you very much! :)  
> Here is a chapter you have been waiting for. Thorin addresses the whole 'courting' thing that Bilbo overheard in the forest. A little H/C and Bilbo/Thorin to spice up the chapter.   
> __

                Donri slowly but surely realizes that every single pair of eyes in the room are currently staring him down. Weapons are pointed in his direction and Thorin is looming over the dwarf as a seemingly ominous and viciously offended presence. The dwarf alongside him has an equally menacing look. 

                 Bilbo has seen the look of Thorin’s face whenever he walked into battle. He could see the determination, the anger and that hatred directed towards his enemies as he cuts them down. However, Bilbo has never before seen the current look on the dwarf-king’s face. It is seriousness. It is deep anger. It is betrayal, defensiveness and, although Bilbo has not seen the look in a long time, he can see some jealousy.

                The evidence is rather damning as well. Donri slowly removes his hand from Bilbo’s pants and holds his hands up in resignation. Bilbo sits on the bench in shock and looks around the room, a little scared and embarrassed. Kili and Bofur walk up and slowly ease Bilbo back away from the bench. They shove him behind them and, through the slim space between their bodies; he can see Donri shaking in his seat.

                “How am I supposed to handle this scene?” The dwarf standing behind Thorin announces. The dwarfs in the hall stand still, not moving even in the slightest way. “We have guests here who, as they are our kin, I expected a warm welcome for. We may be outcasts and thieves but we are not monsters,” He spoke to everyone, his voice deep and captivating.

                “Kubla,” Donri says, his voice choked and restricted.

                Bilbo remembers this name. So, this new dwarf is Kubla Darktracker, the leader of this village. 

                “Explain yourself or I will allow Thorin to indulge himself on his current murderous desires,” Kubla speaks and places a hand on Thorin’s shoulder. He places another one gently on the blade of Thorin’s sword. He lowers the blade and looks at the dwarf that assaulted Bilbo.

                “I-I…” He stutters multiple times before looking back at Bilbo. Bofur shoves the hobbit further behind him, hiding him with his body from Donri’s glare. “We were simply sharing a drink and I paid him a compliment. I swear that he consented!” Donri yells, panic clearly evident on his face.

                Bilbo was outraged. Everyone in the room clearly witnessed his struggling and his attempt to free himself. He squeezed his way through Kili and Bofur.

                “I did no such thing. There is not a soul here that failed to see me fighting against you!” Bilbo yelled and Thorin once again picked up his blade.

                “Can everyone attest that?” Kubla asks the room. He looks between Bilbo, Thorin and Donri silently.

                “Ay, I can. Young Baggins here was fighting off Donri’s advances. I wrapped his wounds and his injured shoulder and I can tell you that Donri would have been quite successful at pinning him to the table,” Faro raises his hand.

                “As can I,” Gloin adds his view.

                “And you, wizard?” Kubla looks to Gandalf. His voice is inquiring and not harsh.

                “Ay, I turned around to see the end of it and dear Bilbo here was trying desperately to separate himself from that dwarf,” Gandalf pulls his hat up so the other dwarf-leader can see the truth within his eyes. 

                Bilbo huffs and crosses his arms, looking at Donri.

                “Listen, I can smell the alcohol on your breath. You might have misinterpreted my words as consent but they most certainly were not. I will accept an apology and have an end to this whole thing. You probably did not know what you were doing,” Bilbo argues.

                “No,” Thorin stands forward, in front of Kubla. “He knew exactly what he was doing. Perhaps an apology will not be sufficient at this point.” He turns the blade over in his hand.

                Bilbo steps back towards the two dwarfs who each put a shoulder and a blade in front of him.

                “I did not know that he was already claimed and called for,” Donri hangs his head and looks Bilbo over.

                Bilbo looks confused and turns back to Bofur and Kili who just look away.

                “I am not,” Bilbo answers slowly while looking around the room. Donri smiles.

                “Then I see no reason as to why this is a big issue,” Donri gives his best grin as he turns to walk away. When he tries to leave the circle of people Fili, Balin, Thorin, Bofur and Oin point their weapons in his direction.

                “Whether is he claimed or not, it is never acceptable for a dwarf to force themselves on someone, especially when they fight so adamantly back,” Kubla speaks. “This is especially true now because, as a hobbit, Mister Baggins could not have picked up on any social queues and rituals we, as dwarfs, have. He has never been in a large dwarf dwelling and let us hope, for your sake as well, that his impression was not ruined from your indiscretion. You will face the council,” Kubla speaks. “Normally, I will suggest that each visitor we receive protects themselves, but pinning down an outsider and acting inappropriate, especially to an injured companion of Thorin’s, is not something I can tolerate.”

                “You are lucky that he is acting on your form of justice and not mine,” Thorin looks at Donri with a vicious frown. “I would have you in pieces.”

                “And maybe he would have me,” Donri says as he walks over to Bilbo.

                Bilbo’s eyes widen as the dwarf approaches. Bofur and Kili once again push him behind them but before Donri even reaches the dwarf shield, Thorin walks forward and grabs Donri’s right arm. He turns him around and pins him against the table. Bilbo makes an effort to stop Thorin from killing his attacker but Bofur and Kili restrain him.

                Donri struggles against the table as Thorin puts an axe to his throat.

                “In case you do not know the etiquette, and I know that you do, he said no and that should tell you enough to back off. Do you like being pinned against a table?” Thorin yells at him. “Do you like struggling knowing that I have the power here?” Thorin leans closer to the now trembling dwarf. Kubla stands with a stoic face, arms crossed, watching the event unfold.

                “You have no claim over him,” Donri responds with an evil smirk. A trickle of blood falls away from his throat. Thorin must have been testing the pressure of his blade.

                “Nor do you,” Thorin eyebrows drew together and his frown deepened.

                “I will give you the permission you need to fight him, to defend the honor of your hobbit companion, but it must be fair,” Kubla intervenes with a hand on Thorin’s shoulder. Thorin withdraws the blade and Bilbo can see the tiny cut on Donri’s throat. He holds a hand up to stop the blood.  “If you wish to fight, Thorin Oakenshield, you need to allow your enemy a weapon.”

                Thorin glares down at Donri before backing up and sheathing his blade. Thorin glances at Bilbo with a sad look on his face before directing an angry glare at Donri.

                “Will you duel me?” Thorin asks, hand on hilt. Donri looks between Thorin to Kubla, to Bilbo and his companions and back to Thorin.

                “He is not worth the effort,” Donri huffs indignantly while looking away.

                Thorin approaches and leans in. Bilbo can barely make out the words, “You’re wrong. He is.”

                _If I ever doubted him still wanting to court me,_ Bilbo thinks, _I can put those doubts to rest._

                Thorin shakes his head before backing away, stopping right before Bofur and Kili. He motions for the two dwarfs to part and takes a stand next to Bilbo. Thorin stares down at him

                “This does not forgive your indiscretion,” Kubla looks at Donri. “I want you to meet me in my working chambers tonight before sundown. If you do not appear, we will send a hunting party out.” The dwarf walks over and approaches Bilbo. “I am sorry for the impression that you must have,” Kubla bows his head to Bilbo.

                Thorin places a hand on Bilbo’s back and pats it gently.

                “The fault is split. I should have been prepared,” Bilbo hangs his head.

                “That is not the case here,” Kubla speaks. “You were not aware of dwarf rituals or consent issues. The fault lies with Donri who, knowing you were resistant chose not to stop. He will be taken and a punishment fit for his crime will be issued.”

                “Thank you,” Bilbo bows his head and looks up at Thorin who is only looking down at him with a concerned expression.

                “The night is still young,” Kubla announces to everyone. “Let not this event poison your mind. It is better to dwell on merriment than to dwell on sorrow,” He twirls his hand around and, after a second, the dwarfs in the room go back to their playful and merry chatter.

                Before Kubla departs he grabs Thorin by the shoulder and pulls his ear in against his face. He whispers something that Bilbo cannot make out before patting Thorin on the arm and walking away. He smiles at Bilbo as he leaves.

                When the room goes back to bustling around, Bilbo, Thorin, Gandalf and the other dwarfs stand in a circle in the middle of the room.

                “Look at me,” Thorin demands of Bilbo and the hobbit listens, staring at the dwarf-king’s determined eyes, “Are you hurt?” He asks, looking Bilbo down from head to toe.

                “Physically?” Bilbo asks quietly. “No.”

                “That is good,” Thorin smiles. “We can deal with emotional.”

                Balin brings Thorin over a drink and, after holding up a finger to indicate a second to Bilbo, he chugs some of the drink before bringing up an arm to wipe away his upper lip.

                “Follow me back to the rooms,” Thorin demands of Bilbo gently. “I believe we have some things to discuss.”

                Bilbo nods before thinking for a moment. “No,” He shakes his head at Thorin. “You have not had a chance to relax or eat yet.” He urges.

                “I cannot relax now,” Thorin argues.

                “Our young hobbit here as a point,” Gandalf walks up. “He will still be in the same position even if you choose to sit down and refresh yourself. We have not had a substantial meal for a while, nor strong ale. Relax for a minute, Thorin. You have twelve other, perfectly capable dwarfs who are able to take care of Bilbo here while you eat.”

                Thorin glares down Gandalf before looking at his other dwarfs and back to Bilbo. Bilbo just looks up pleadingly at him.

                “Fine, fine!” Thorin argues. “Some of you can take Bilbo back to the rooms. If you leave him unattended or unguarded, I will personally seek revenge. I will be back when I am done,” Thorin nods towards his company before kneeling in front of Bilbo. “Will you be alright?” Thorin asks him, looking him in the eyes.

                “Yes,” Bilbo answers, short and to the point.

                Thorin looks at him a moment before nodding. “Go and rest,” He whispers. “I will be up in a short while.” Bilbo nods and before he goes to walk away, Thorin grabs him by the jacket and pulls him in for a hug.

                “Thorin…” Bilbo starts but leans into the hug.

                “I will talk to you about everything later,” Thorin releases him and hands Gloin a slip of paper. He stands up and walks to a table with Dwalin, Balin, Bifur, Fili, Nori, Dori, Ori and Gandalf over to a table with food.

                The remaining dwarfs; Gloin, Bombur, Kili, Bofur and Oin direct Bilbo out of the back door of the Great Hall. Bilbo looks around as they exit the door. Hallways fork off in every direction, with at least fifty wings of the hallway tunneling around. Each is lit with torches and door after door line the hallway.

                _They must be rooms for all of the dwarfs,_ Bilbo thinks.

                Bilbo looks to the other dwarfs in confusion.

                Gloin opens up the slip of paper and looks it over.

                “We are in the 22nd west wing,” He points to one of the hallways and the rest of the dwarfs nod and set off. Bilbo just stands there in awe of all of the hallways as the rest of the dwarfs walk away. Eventually, Bofur notices that Bilbo is not following them.  The group stops

                “Bilbo?” Kili asks. “Is there something wrong?”

                Bilbo just moves his head in every direction. “How do you not get lost?”

                “It is something many of us grew up with,” Gloin answers and Bilbo just nods and follows them down a side hallway. That hallway branches off as well and the group turns west. There, in a side hallway, rests about eight rooms, each with various runes on the doors. The dwarfs stop at the second to last room in the dead-end hallway and open the door. They all shuffle into the wide room and Bilbo enters last.  There is a single bed against the wall along with a bedside table. There are two torches against the wall which Bofur lights to illuminate the room.

                “Here,” Gloin points to the bed, “This can be your room. We will split the rooms up between Thorin, Gandalf and the rest by family or brothers.”

                Bilbo nods and notices his pack against the wall in the corner. He grabs it, sets it on his bed and takes a seat at the end. He stares at the other dwarfs.

                “I will take the first shift,” Kili smiles at the others. “I can quite surely state that I am the most sober out of the lot of us.”

                “I guess I will not argue with that,” Gloin pats the youngest dwarf on the shoulder. “Do not leave him alone or Thorin will, most likely, skin you alive.”

                “As I do not desire such an ending, put your worries to rest. I will watch him,” Kili smiles and watches as the rest of the dwarfs wave and leave the room.

                Not feeling up for the company, Bilbo decides to slide over to the end of bed and bury his face in the pillow. It has been a long day. He has confessed his lies to Thorin, returned to the group and re-awoken from a Warg attack. He rode out with the group and settled down in this dwarf village of thieves and apparent liars. To add on to the action, he was forcibly shoved against the table and touched against his will. Thorin is being protective, more than normal and he promises to talk as soon as he eats.

                “How are you fairing?” Kili asks as he sits on the floor against the wall. He is right behind the closed door and is looking at Bilbo as he curls in on himself.              

                “Considering the circumstances, I suppose I am to survive,” Bilbo replies, his answer muffled by the pillow.

                “Surviving is all we can ask for,” Kili responds and Bilbo does not even have the slightest desire to lift his head from the pillow.

                “Kili?” Bilbo asks, finally having a realization hit him full force.  He has Kili alone, without Fili around. Kili has a tendency to disclose information that he probably should not share and, as his filter is Fili and Fili is gone, Bilbo can get a jump on why Thorin is considering courting him.

                “Yes?” Kili asks. Bilbo turns his head from the pillow and sees Kili staring at him while toying around with some of the arrows in his quiver.

                “Why was Thorin so protective today?”                 Bilbo asks and resists the urge to bite his knuckles or chew his nails or any other anxious indicator that would ease the conflict in his mind. He knows that he is lying to Kili; he knows that Thorin wants to court him, but he needs to find out some more information.

                Kili stops fidgeting around with his arrows and looks at Bilbo with a surprised expression.

                “Because…” Kili trails off. “Thorin is our leader and he is protective of everyone in our company. Dwarfs have codes that they live by and the guy that.. well, took advantage of your ignorance was not living up to them. It is an insult to our group and to your race that he continued the way he did. Thorin has influence, even after our kingdom was taken over by the dragon. He will use that influence if he needs to,” Kili speaks and Bilbo nods in acceptance of the answer. Even with Fili gone, Kili is watching his words very carefully.

                “It was not just during that incident though. Since I have returned, he has been like this,” Bilbo lays himself down on the bed instead of being curled in on himself.

                “We were all shocked when you were taken away by the Orcs. Thorin is just trying to insure that nothing like that happens again,” Kili argues and continues to fidget around with his arrow. “We all are.”

                “Yeah, I guess that is it,” Bilbo sits up, sighs and swings his feet over the edge of the bed.

                “What else is prying away at your mind?” Kili sets the arrow down next to him and spreads his feet out.

                “Nothing,” Bilbo responds, shaking his head. He stares down at his feet.

                “If it were nothing, sadness would not be evident on your face. Is it the attack that has you shaken?” Kili lets his hair fall around his face.

                “No, that has not set in yet. Rather, it is something that Thorin said earlier,” Bilbo looks up and lets a pensive look cross his face. He has not even addressed this yet but the phrase has been reverberating around in his skull.

                “Thorin?” Kili asks. “What did he say that is bothering you?”

                “He said, when he found Donri attacking me, to take his hands off of _my hobbit_ ,” Bilbo starts and he immediately sees Kili tense from across the room.  _“My_ hobbit is what he said. Not _our_ hobbit or _the_ hobbit but _my_ hobbit. It was just a weird turn of a phrase,” He looks directly at Kili now and can see the dwarf closing his eyes and sighing.

                Kili remains silent and stares at the wall. His eyes drop occasionally but he refuses to meet Bilbo’s gaze even a single time. When he finally looks up, his face is a mixture of sadness and confliction.

                “There are things Thorin needs to tell you that I cannot,” Kili starts. “That I will not tell you because it is not my place. Thorin has lost a lot though. He has had nothing permanent and therefore he tends to think that any hope he has for permanence is stripped away from him. He is possessive of the things and the people around him and even though he has mocked you out before, that includes you,” Kili answers and Bilbo stops to think about Kili’s statement and to truly run it through his mind. “What that dwarf did, and his lack of apology, it is unforgivable. Thorin will address any worries of yours later. He cares for you, Bilbo. The extent to which, he will tell.”

                Bilbo sighs and lies back on his bed, staring straight up at the ceiling. He feels the ring in his pocket and remembers, in full detail, the cold and the absent feeling that surrounded him when he slipped it on. He felt loneliness and despair, like everything he ever loved had been stripped away and carried off against his will. He felt the weight of time, the weight of mortality, the truth that eventually all people will die. The feeling that, eventually, he will see people he loves pass away in front of his very own eyes. He felt his own mortality ticking away, calling him towards that spirit world for a permanent forever. Kili explained the lack of permanence that Thorin faced; the knowledge that everything he loved was carried away, and Bilbo cannot help but to pale at the thought. It was like Thorin was living the experience when Bilbo put on the ring. It was like Thorin was a living embodiment of all the things that will break lesser men. When Bilbo disappeared into the ring world, he held a fire inside of his heart. He had a beacon of hope in the knowledge that he could always slip off the ring. Thorin had no such hope. He had no means of simply slipping off the ring and making all the bad things go away. He had no metal band on his finger causing all of the problems. Bilbo reaches forward and covers his eyes with his arm.

                “Then I will wait with eager ears to hear the extent. If you can answer this, then please do. What can he see in me? I am not more than a mere hobbit,” Bilbo responds and does not even take his arm off of his eyes. He lays there, listening to the reverberating silence of the caverns and Kili’s breathing from across the room.

                “He sees simplicity,” Kili starts and Bilbo can hear his breathing deepen. “He sees somebody that takes all the bad things on their shoulders but continues to look for the good. He sees someone with an open heart, who is indiscriminate of the prejudices and hatred that poison dwarfs. He sees a small man who can change the world with even smaller deeds. Thorin will not say this. Thorin is not sentimental the way I am as a younger dwarf. The world has not taken its time to squeeze my optimism out and it has not taken yours. Thorin is losing his ground,” Kili’s voice is sad now and ragged and Bilbo pulls his arm off of his face to look at the dwarf. “I am emotional now because I always wish for small fragments of happiness for my uncle.”

                “You think I can offer that to him?” Bilbo asks, ready to all but run out of the room and hug Thorin as he feasted.

                “I think you already have. I think he is just having a hard time telling you that,” Kili looks at Bilbo’s bed and Bilbo just closes his eyes and tries to think of something to take his mind off of falling into Thorin’s possible mindset.

                A knock kicks him out of his reverie and, as quick as an arrow is notched, Kili has his axe in his hand. “Who is it?” The younger dwarf yells and he hears rustling on the other end of the door.

                “It is I, Thorin,” The voice answers and Kili walks over to the door slowly but does not lower his weapon. He opens the door with great care and, after seeing the long black hair with flecks of gray; he steps aside and lets the dwarf-king in. Thorin nods to Bilbo on the bed. “If you would give us a moment, Kili,” Thorin asks and Kili just nods rather quickly. “Thank you for watching over him.”

                “It was not a strenuous task,” Kili laughs. Bilbo decides to look away in order to not intrude upon a possible, albeit odd, family moment.

                “Did you and your brother eat enough? I cannot guarantee a full meal like that anytime soon,” He asks Kili, concern lacing his voice. Kili just nods and Thorin lightly pulls Kili in for a hug. He breaks apart by patting him on the back. “You and Fili should head to bed and rest up. It is a luxury for those in our quest to not sleep on the ground for the night, one we partially owe to Nori and Kubla. We need not watch over our rooms. There will be guards for the night. Sleep tight and long,” Thorin asks softly and Kili just nods.

                “Good night, Thorin,” Kili smiles and heads towards the door.

                “Good night, Kili,” The dwarf-king responds and Bilbo can hear the door shut and the clicking of the lock. Bilbo is at full attention as Thorin saunters over and takes a spot next to him on the bed. “I would ask you what you think of the dwarven dwelling but it would seem your view might be a little tainted now.”

                “I will not let that singular dwarf spoil my view of the rest,” Bilbo smiles as he looks at Thorin. Here, in the tunnels, he looks a little younger. The stress has run away from his face and he looks almost pensive and calm. A warm meal and a little rest can do a lot for even the weariest of souls.

                “That is quite strong of a view,” Thorin grins back. “Do you wish to converse about what conspired down in the Great Hall?” He asks and leans back on the bed, turning his head to stare at Bilbo.

                “I am afraid it is not much of a tale to tell,” He stares down at his feet. “I was sitting down while the rest of our group dispersed to carry on singing and drinking, songs I did not know, and that dwarf walked up to me and asked me what I thought about the Great Hall. He said he never saw a hobbit before and told me, well…” Bilbo remembers the compliment and looks away.

                “What did he tell you?” Thorin asks curiously.

                “He said I was rather attractive. I simply accepted the compliment and then, the next thing I know he was kissing me and his hand was inching towards rather inappropriate locations. I tried to fight him off but with my shoulder and him having the height advantage I kind of… panicked,” Bilbo admitted uncomfortably on the bed.

                “Some dwarfs are pushy in their attempts to bring a partner to bed,” Thorin shakes his head and sighs.

                “Do you wish to converse about what conspired down in the Great Hall with _you?_ ” Bilbo asks with a smile and Thorin just nods.

                “I was invited to speak with Kubla to guarantee a safe stay for our group for a night or two,” Thorin starts. “and it was rather successful. He invited me back to the Great Hall and the two of us walked over to find and introduce our companions. I found the table and saw Donri, that pushy dwarf, pinning you against the table with his mouth on yours and his hand on your pants,” Thorin gritted out through clenched teeth.  “The second I saw you struggling, I will admit, to your silent mouth and listening ears only, that I lost my judgment for a moment.” Thorin pushes a few stray hairs away from his face.

                “Well, if aggressive and protective is what you were aiming for, you hit the mark. He climbed off me right after that,” Bilbo shrugged, wincing at the pain in his shoulder and looked at the dwarf-king. “Although, I must ask one thing…” Bilbo asks softly. He wants to know the answer to the next question but is afraid to ask the question he must ask in order to receive the answer.

                “As I know what you are most likely to ask…” Thorin trails off.

                “ _My_ hobbit?” Bilbo smiles and Thorin drops his head and shakes it .

                “Where judgment flees, the mind speaks freely. Now, I suppose, we are on a new conversation because I have a few confessions to make if you are willing to sit here and hear me out,” Thorin turns looks at Bilbo with sad eyes.

                “Of course I will hear you out. In case you have not yet realized, I am a curious person and if answers are within my reach, I am simply unable to turn them down,” Bilbo huffs out with a smile.        

                “Do you recall our prior experience in the forest, when we both confessed that we had things we could not yet tell one another?” Thorin starts with a question and Bilbo nods, fully aware of the memory. “Good, it is a start. I will not ask you your side of the argument. Your secrets are yours but now, and I am sorry for adding on the weight of unshared knowledge, I feel I must share my end. I wished to wait but I cannot find a more ideal moment because, as I have waited long enough, something has happened.” Thorin looks down and scrunches his face together. When he looks up again, the wrinkles even out and his face is calm once more.

                “What is your confession?” Bilbo asks. He has been waiting for Thorin to tell him, to simply admit what everyone else in the group knew but would not share.

                “This has been building ever since we ended up at your dwelling. I admire your happiness, your easygoing personality. You show strength when we least expect it and courage even when other people lose all hope. You smile at the things that people would easily overlook and you risked your life to save mine, even after I left you all to face your fate in that tree. I am undeserving of the compassion that you have shown me but I am more than grateful. Before you were taken, I decided upon well… getting to know you better. It is rare for me to grow close to people other than the male dwarfs in my company but my heart was beginning to beat in synch with yours. When you were taken away by the Orcs, I was quite assured that the world was out to take the things I cared for away. When you returned, my thoughts began to change because, now and this is it, I have a second chance. When I walked down to see the dwarf with his hands in your pants and his mouth on yours, I made a final decision that now is this right time to tell you. I care for you Bilbo Baggins, more than my stubborn self was once able to admit. When Donri stood in front of my kin and all but screamed that you were unclaimed, I wanted to wring his throat because, if I had my way, you would be. You would be my hobbit as I yelled before,” Thorin finishes and breathes out. He stops to analyze every small change in Bilbo’s face. The dwarf-king looks like he is preparing himself for rejection.

                Bilbo does not let much emotion leak onto his face. Small pieces of surprise peak around his eyes and mouth though, no matter the emotional damn he begins to build. Bilbo can feel the truth of the expressed emotions, the care and compassion that Thorin put into his constructed sentences, as if he rehearsed the lines over and over again in his head. Bilbo tries to use the same method to construct his response but he can tell that Thorin is practically suffering as time carries on.

                “You know what my thoughts were as I was getting carried away by the Orcs?” Bilbo asks, remembering back to his capture. He promises to tell the truth, to try to avoid hurting Thorin. Thorin turns his head and offers and inquisitive gaze. “I kept telling myself that I needed to get away so I could see you all again, so that I could see our companions and so that I could get to know everyone better. That includes you, Thorin. I knew I had to escape so I could come back and spend more time with you. I wanted to help you find something permanent, a place you can call home. I spent some of the nights alone and cold and I wanted nothing more than to fall asleep next to our group. You make me feel safe, even in the midst of all this danger and even when the dangers find me, I feel like I am doing something important with my life.” Bilbo finishes and lays one of his hands on Thorin’s.

                “I constantly think of all the small mercies that world has granted me in order to make our two paths meet and to bring you back,” Thorin whispers. “Before you were ambushed, I wanted to court you.”

                Bilbo nods and sighs. So this was it. This was the confession he was waiting for .               

                “And now?” Bilbo asks, wanting to know this final answer more than anything.

                “I still do. Time has not changed this sentiment but rather has reinforced it,” Thorin speaks with emphasis and charm. He speaks with compassion and truth.

                “Why me?” Bilbo inquires.

                “I have asked myself that many time when I was considering whether or not to court you,” Thorin smiles and he rubs a thumb across the surface of Bilbo’s hand. “My mind always returned to me multiple, many and many, answers so I asked myself why it could be someone other than you and I did not find a single one. Bilbo, I know you may doubt the sincerity of my feelings but I no longer do.”

                “I do not doubt them,” Bilbo responds, looking down at their hands. “No longer do I doubt them.”

                “Then will you accept me? Will you let me do this the proper dwarven way and court you?” Thorin asks. He lays another hand on top of their intertwined ones. “You can always choose to reject me during the process but I want to prove myself to you. I want to keep you by my side, Bilbo Baggins. Even after we return to Erebor, I want you to sit beside me,” Thorin stares directly into Bilbo’s soul and Bilbo shakes under the pressure. He has been running the scenario through in his head since he overheard the dwarf-king and Fili in the forest but he has never imagined this. He could never fully imagine Thorin’s passion and drive, his force and words. However, as he was himself in his head, he knows the answer he has given in his head-reenactments. It was and always has been, yes.  

                “What you’re offering me-“ Bilbo starts but is cut off.

                “Is no less than you deserve,” Thorin finishes.

                “If you are insistent on this-“ Bilbo again gets cut off.

                “I am,” Thorin nods.

                “Then I can never say no,” Bilbo finishes. Thorin just stops and looks at Bilbo for a long moment.

                “That is a yes?” Thorin reiterates and Bilbo just grins and nods.

                “It is a yes, yes…” Bilbo grins and he is instantly pulled into a hug once again from the dwarf-king. It is stronger than their previous hugs and Bilbo can practically _feel_ Thorin’s smile. When he pulls away, Thorin pulls Bilbo’s head in and lays a kiss right in the middle.

                “Then I can, with quite confidence, proclaim that you are _my_ hobbit now and mean it. If someone dares to lay their hands on you again, I need not hesitate before I punish them,” Thorin squeezes Bilbo’s hand.

                He withdraws his limb and reaches around his neck to pull a gold chain away from his body. He pulls it over his head and holds it out in his open hand.

                “If you accept this, it is a sign of accepting my courting. It means that you are giving me permission to carry on with my methods to win over your trust and heart. It also means that you take yourself out of availability and promise me to be your only interest during the courting. I will, in return, only pursue you as a partner. I will protect you and I will keep you safe. This in mind, Bilbo Baggins, do you accept?” Thorin asks, his voice sentimental and soft.

                Bilbo just nods, not trusting his voice to not choke up and freeze.

                “I accept,” Bilbo manages to breathe out and Thorin leans forward to slip the gold necklaces around his neck. It falls to his chest and Bilbo feels the warm metal, previously heated by Thorin’s beating heart, against his skin.

                “Dwarven gold,” Thorin remarks and Bilbo feels the necklace between his fingers. “It will not tarnish or blemish. It was forged by my ancestors in the deep mines of Erebor and made for me even before my birth. They are never our chains to keep. My father gave his to my mother and my grandfather to my father’s mother. Now mine is yours,” Thorin lets the chain fall back to Bilbo’s chest.

                “And your family line? It will end at you?” Bilbo asks, concerned about the obvious fact that Thorin would not pass his name down to children.

                “My sister conceived two children to spare me from the obligation,” Thorin just chuckles.

                “Fili and Kili?”

                “My two nephews,” Thorin beams and Bilbo can feel the pride.“If I were to reclaim Erebor and die, it will go rightfully into their hands. Breeding is no obligation of mine. I wish to only find a partner whom I can respect and revere. Do I have the opportunity to prove to you that you are that person?” Thorin asks again.

                “Of course,” Bilbo just grins.

                Thorin responds only by wrapping his arms around the hobbit once more and laying him down on the bed. With another touch of lips to his forehead, he leans back with a happy sigh.

                “After a rough evening, will you sleep now?” He asks Bilbo, staring down at the grinning hobbit.

                “I do not know,” Bilbo sighs before cracking up with gentle laughter. “Maybe you should stay?” Bilbo offers.

                “I cannot,” Thorin frowns. “I have an etiquette I must follow for courting. It is tradition.”

                “I have never been one for tradition,” Bilbo frowns, wanting Thorin to stay. The one time he fell asleep next to him with the ring on was a great comfort, even in the cold and desperate spiritual world.

                “This is something I must do,” Thorin reinforces. “I need to do it this way. Please indulge me?” Thorin pleads.

                Bilbo just sighs and nods. “I will.”

                “I am not saying _never_ to staying; I am simply saying _later,”_ Thorin reassures. He looks down at the gold chain on Bilbo’s neck with a proud smirk. “Are you able to sleep deeply tonight?”

                Bilbo nods and strips off his jacket and his top coat. He is extremely cautious with folding his jacket and placing it in the drawer of the table next to him. Thorin says nothing but peels back the blankets and lets Bilbo climb in. When the hobbit is cocooned in blankets, Thorin smiles and lays his forehead against Bilbo’s.  The hobbit is content to just sit there and listening to the two of them breathe. If this is what bliss is, he would love to feel it forever. Thorin’s face is stripped of years of mistrust and betrayal and now he only shows compassion and a content smile. When Thorin pulls away Bilbo frowns.

                “Sleep tight,” Thorin whispers and leans close to finish the sentence with “my hobbit.”

                “Good night,” Bilbo smiles and watches happily as Thorin pulls away from the bed and to the other side of the room. He blows out the torches and the room falls into a darkness.  Thorin’s figure falls into the black mass of the room.

                “If you need anything,” He whispers and Bilbo looks towards the door to find where the sounds comes from. “I am merely a room away.”

                Bilbo hears the door close and the lock turn. He lets his mind run wild.

                _It has been a busy day. From a re-awakening, to a travel to a dwarven village, to an almost attack and then to Thorin courting me._ Bilbo thinks.

                He lets his fingers run along the warm gold chain around his neck, the proof that Thorin’s feelings from the forest have never changed.

                Bilbo sighs and faces another terrifying concept.

_I need to explain to him the ring and then talk to the rest of the group about the courting. I must face down a dragon and we still must reclaim Erebor._

Bilbo pushes all the thoughts aside and decides to not let the weight of the world come down upon him in one night. He will enjoy the luxuries of a warm bed, a full stomach and a safe resting spot. He closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I debated about ending this story here but then I realized that it would be really cruel. So I will not. I will continue on with Thorin's courting and some more fluffy, adorable and possibly challenging moments.  
> This might be the less dramatic cliffhanger that I have left this story on so far.   
> All typed out, this chapter is about 11 pages so proof-reading was a pain in my butt. If I missed any mistakes, please let me know.   
> Please read & review- let me know what you think! :)   
> This is NOT the last chapter, I will be continuing. At least now, Bilbo agreed to let Thorin court him and Bilbo does not need to worry about pesky dwarfs trying to violate him (OR DOES HE? >:D)   
> Thank you all for reading and sticking with it to chapter 8. Now that their courtship has started, I can explore some relationship sides. I have a few more plot twists and explanations planned out.   
> We still do not know the reasons behind Gandalf's intervention early in the story yet nor what has happened to Donri. :)


	9. Breaking Points

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo may have sworn to never slip on the ring again but he cannot always control his circumstances. During the night, Bilbo gets an unwanted visitor and, because of his claim, Thorin seeks retribution on behalf of his hobbit. When Bilbo is brought close to the edge of madness, can anyone bring him back? Will Thorin discover the existence of the ring?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sticking with the trend of increasing the chapter size as I go along. This one is nearly 6k words so I am presently very happy with myself. I am also sticking with the trend of finishing and editing my chapter at 3am. That much will never change.  
> I thank all of you for reading and commenting. I'm at nearly 9k views on this story now. It is much more than I ever expected.   
> Curious little side note- I have a tumblr account and I was scrolling down my dash and I saw someone reblog something like "You have got to read Invisible vs Indivisible by Moirai... Great Thilbo fic" and so on and I just stopped and I'm like "Wow, this is weird. I wrote that. That is my story!" I was torn between reblogging it and not. It made me really happy!   
> I know I promised some fluff but I also need some plot. This is not a fluff chapter so my apologies.

                When Bilbo was back home at Bag End, wrapped up in layer after layer of warm blankets and fluffy pillows, he would dream of adventures. He would dream of setting out, his pack filled with curious items, and exploring the rest of Middle-Earth. Now that his reality has changed to his dreamscape, his dreamscape has changed. When he sleeps now, at the dwarf dwelling with his company, he dreams of alternate realities. Sometime he dreams of being back in the hobbit hole, with plenty of food and warm, comfortable and danger-free nights. Sometimes he dreams of standing before the corpse of a mighty dragon, sword in his hands and gold under his feet. He could practically feel the victory and adrenaline soaring through his veins. Recently though, his dreams have taken a dramatic shift. No longer does he dream of soft beds, victorious battle-cries and oceans of gold. He dreams of warm hearths and friendly company, Thorin and the rest of the dwarfs with happy smiles and content gazes upon their faces. He dreams of finding his friends and comrades a permanent place, reclaiming their riches and allowing them to find their own happiness. Sometimes, when he closes his eyes he can almost feel the warmth of the fires, the laughter of the dwarfs and the smell of food cooking over fires. Waking up now is so much more difficult.

                Right now, he has a little sense of that dream. Balin is sitting by the fireplace and telling the company about famous old tales. Bilbo is sitting in an armchair near the fire, listening with extreme curiosity. Empty plates on a side table tell a tale of a meal now being digested. Balin’s voice rises and falls at the perfect moments, adding a perfect accent and air of suspense and mystery to the heroic tale of past dwarfs.  Bilbo hears a mysterious, repetitive clicking sound. He can place the sound of metal grinding against metal. It is nothing substantial, not like gears grinding or swords clanking. It sounds more like sliding the edge of a sword against a metal table, small yet distinct enough to be irritating. Bilbo looks around and sees the rest of the dwarfs not even flinching. The dwarfs continue to stare at Balin with great interest, not even paying attention to the metal on metal sound. Bilbo rises from his armchair and walks over to Thorin.

                “Do you hear that?” Bilbo asks the dwarf-king. Thorin does not say anything. He does not even look at Bilbo or acknowledge that even asked a question.

                Bilbo can now hear the sound of a metal jiggling, like someone trying to wedge a metal piece in a location in which it clearly does not fit. He looks around and realizes that no one is looking.

                “Does anyone hear that?” Bilbo yells and, once again, the dwarfs do not move. Balin’s voice does not even waver or stop. The tale continues and Bilbo looks around at everyone in a panic.

                He walks over to Thorin again and shakes him a little. The dwarf does not even look at him.

                “Thorin, if this is a joke it is not funny, please,” Bilbo shakes his arm but the dwarf does not move. He does not even flinch. Bilbo walks around the room and continues the same action only with the other dwarfs. He even shakes Balin but his story does not stop.

                Bilbo starts pulling at his hair before looking down at his chest. While he expects to see a gold chain, proof of Thorin’s claim on him, there is nothing there. There is no necklace, no interlocked, shimmering metal links. He hears the clicking metal sound again.

                “ _You need to wake up, Bilbo”_ A soft female voice echoes in his head and Bilbo jumps. The rest of the dwarfs do not move. Bilbo opens his eyes in realization.

                When he wakes up, Bilbo is covered in a thick layer of sweat and lying in bed, gasping for air.

                _That was too realistic,_ Bilbo thinks. He looks down at his chest and sees the gold chain glimmering against his pale skin. He sighs as he runs a hand over the smooth metal. He attempts to even out his breathing, looking around the dark room and inspecting for any sign of danger.

                He hears the metal clicking sound again and he stills in his bed.

                _This cannot be one of those false awakening dreams, can it? It is much too real._

                 After a minute, it sounds again. Bilbo throws himself out of bed, hissing at his shoulder and he reaches down for his sword. He can see the doorknob moving slightly. Just to be careful, he reaches into the bedside drawer and grabs his jacket. He pulls it on and checks to see if the ring is in his pocket. When he feels the circular indent, he walks towards the door slowly with his sword out and facing forward.

                The metal on metal sound is louder this time and a moment later, he can hear a distinctive click from the door. Bilbo can barely see the doorknob in the darkness but he sees the door open slowly, letting shimmers of light creep their way into the room. The light is minimal and Bilbo can make out a dark shadow on the other side.

                “Who is there?” Bilbo asks into the silence but the silence does not respond.  A quietness takes over the room again and no movement is seen. Bilbo readjusts his blade in his hand and attempts to keep his breathing and his heart rate silent.

                Bilbo sighs and assures himself that the lock is faulty, that the floor is uneven and the door must have just slipped open. He turns around to head back to bed. He hears a rushed movement behind him but, when he attempts to turn around, a force hits him against the back. He cannot withstand the momentum and he finds himself falling to the ground, limbs flailing and spread out. He feels his shoulder burn with searing pain. A weight settles against his back and his sword is peeled away from his hand. He hears it hit the ground and clank against the stone across the room. His arms and his legs are pinned down and Bilbo starts trying to flail. He goes to scream but a hand comes around and closes off his mouth. Now he can only grunt and yell muffled words silently. The hand is pulled back but a cloth makes contact with his lips as he tries to scream and it is shoved back into his mouth, once again cutting over his shouts.

                Bilbo tries to move but only ends up thudding himself weakly back down onto the stone floor. He tries to make out signs of who can be attacking him but he can only make out the sight of two arms holding his down. Suddenly, the arms are removed but, before he can react, he is flipped off of his stomach and onto his back. The arms come down again and Bilbo readjusts his eyes to the thick darkness. He can see a dwarf on top of him, sitting down on his chest, kneeling against his legs to keep him down. When he moves his gaze up to the attacker’s face, he can make out the facial features of a previous attacker, Donri from the Great Hall. Bilbo tries to yell again but only ends up choking on his own saliva.  

                “Do not fight me,” Donri chuckles evilly. “Sit back and enjoy this and I will not need to harm you,” He grins. “Well, not much at least. You disgraced me in front of Kubla and well, that cannot be forgiven, dear hobbit,” He shakes his head. He moves Bilbo’s arms up and over his head and Bilbo can only hiss in pain as his shoulder is moved into an unnatural position. He then withdraws one arm and uses the other to pin him down.

                “Where is your king now?” He asks and Bilbo tries to move once more. The grip on his wrists tightens.  “You know, I thought I would object to this while you were tied up but I think it might actually make it better,” Donri grins and Bilbo just shivers in fear. He runs his free hand down Bilbo’s chest and maintains the same lecherous smile.

                Donri only smiles evilly and looks down at Bilbo with a menacing look. His eyes drop down and rest on his upper chest. A frown tugs at the corner of his lips and Bilbo knows what he is looking at. He is looking at the gold chain on Bilbo’s neck.

                “Do not tell me that your dwarf-king swept in and claimed you right after my attack?” Donri hisses and tightens his grip on Bilbo’s wrists. “No,” Donri shakes his head. “I had a physical claim first.” Donri moves his free arm down to Bilbo’s neck and runs the gold chain around in his hands. An angry scowl takes over Donri’s facial muscles and he turns over the necklace on Bilbo’s neck. Suddenly, the anger deepens and Donri pulls at the golden chain. Bilbo grunts as the necklace brushes and burns the back of his neck. When the gold links do not give, Donri lets the necklace fall back around Bilbo’s neck. Bilbo watches in horror as Donri moves to withdraw something from his side. As he turns, he feels the pressure on his wrists weaken and he strategically uses that moment to direct all of his strength to his arms and swing forward.

                Bilbo manages to force Donri to release his grip on his arms and he diverts his force to shoving Donri on the ground. He kneels him in the groin before scrambling to reach for his sword. He turns around and throws himself to the ground, crawling to reach the blade. He stretches his good arm out as far as he can and ends up short. Donri grabs his ankle and starts pulling him back. Bilbo panics and kicks backwards, feeling his foot connect with something flesh and bone. The feeling follows along with a deep grunt of pain. He feels two hands reach out this time and they pull both legs back. Bilbo can see the blade growing farther and farther away. Bilbo lets his unconscious brain take over and he throws a punch at Donri’s face. Another grunt and Bilbo can feel warm liquid against his knuckles. His feet are released and he scrambles away.

                Bilbo remembers the ring in his pocket as he darts to the corner of the room. He will not risk crossing over Donri to get to the door. He dives behind the bed, hiding in darkness. He frees the cloth from around his mouth. He holds his breath and, despite the fact that all of his common sense is screaming not to, he slides the ring on.

                “Where are you?” Bilbo can hear as he slips into the spirit world.

                The moment the gold band touches his finger, he feels an ice creep into his bones. Any warmth he has gained from sleeping under the covers subsides and his skin feels like it is freezing right off. The harsh screeching picks up and Bilbo just covers his ears and curls in on himself again on the ground.

                Bilbo is torn between two horrible extremes. If he takes off the ring, he will be attacked by Donri and he does not want to know what the dwarf has in store for him. If he doesn’t take off the ring, the screeching and cold will consume him and drive him mad. The sound escalates and breaks his thoughts. Bilbo tries to remain silent in order to not alert Donri.

                He can practically feel his veins freezing, his blood turning to slush as it runs along his body. His whole body is shaking in order to gain some heat. His ear drums feel like they will burst at any moment and he simply tries to curl further into himself. The ice reaches its way up his neck and into his brain, settling into the folds and curves. His thoughts dull down and he can only feel the heat of the ring on his finger. He lifts his hands up and presses his finger to the warm band. It is the only thing that he can feel in this world. He can feel its smooth surface and the way it glimmers and glows. It is the only thing that matters to him in this world and he can feel it way against his hand. He feels like he should hold it close to his chest, to not lose the warmth, and never let it go away.

                _NO!_ Bilbo thinks through the ice. _I will not end up like that creature in the cave, worshipping this thing. I will not let this things become my everything._

Bilbo looks down and feels an added warmth around his neck. The gold chain glimmers in the gray wasteland.  The color is a golden miracle and the metal is warm to the touch, like it was sitting next to a warm fireplace just before it was placed on Bilbo’s neck. He manages to stare at the necklace instead of diverting all of his attention to the shimmering contrast of the gold ring on his finger. The necklace contains no charms or protection spells. It is not made and forged with exceptional power. Rather, and Bilbo is beginning to suspect this, the necklace was given to him with strong feeling and the sentiment engrained itself into the gold. It spreads throughout the chain and continues to recycle itself, granting him some reprieve, even across mortal and immortal planes.

_“I will protect you and I will keep you safe.”_ He remembers Thorin saying, whispering above him as he held him close.

_“Thorin has lost a lot though. He has had nothing permanent and therefore he tends to think that any hope he has for permanence is stripped away from him”_ Kili’s voice cuts in through his mind.

                The ice is pushing farther and farther up and his vision is closing in on only the gold ring. Bilbo grabs at his head but uncovers his ears to the piercing screeches.

                Bilbo vows to not be another permanent thing that slips through Thorin’s hands. He cannot take the pull of the ring any longer. He sees the outline of the bed in his mind and he crawls slightly under it. He screams as everything comes crashing down on him. The sounds and the ice creep into his brain. He peels the ring off of his finger and throws it into his pocket.

                He cannot silence himself though. The scream barrels down his throat and launches itself off his lips, spilling forth to reverberate off of the walls around the room. It moves out the open door and diffuses. Bilbo continues to scream. He is still cold. His ears will not stop ringing. He turns his head and makes out Donri covering his ears and looking around like a deer in headlights. The room is still perpetually black and Bilbo feels tears falling around his cheeks. He is quite sure that they freeze when they touch his skin, turning to crystals upon their exit from his eyes. He continues to scream loudly. The ringing will not fade. The madness will not subside. It feels like his brain is being pierced by icicles and turned to mush by loud noises.

                He grips his head as he sobs and screams. He is in fetal position on the floor.

                Through the ringing he hears the sound of a wooden door being thrown against a wall. The blackness offers no hint to the source of the noise. Bilbo just continues to cry. He should have never but the ring on. He should have accepted whatever Donri inflicted upon him. Anything was better than this.

                “Bombur, get the lights!” He hears a deep voice and Bilbo just curls closer to the bed post. He is half under the bed and half out now. His feet and legs are the only visible parts in the dark. He sees soft light spreading and pooling under the bed. His eyes clench shut and he goes to grip his ears again. His screams start to die down gradually. “Hold him down!” The voice orders again and Bilbo is absent as to what is going on. He has removed himself from reality.  “Keep him there and don’t let him leave,” The voice orders, laced with anger and disgust. “Just sit on him.”

                He feels a strong grip on his ankles and, thinking that it is Donri again, he kicks out and flails, screaming louder. He is pulled out from under the bed and the grip stops. Bilbo keeps his hands on his ears and his eyes shut and clenched.  His skin is freezing so the hands now on him feel like they are made of scorching fire.

                He is lifted up around the abdomen and pulled into a sitting position.

                “Bilbo,” The voice whispers softly. Bilbo shakes his head and refuses to reopen his senses to the real world. “Bilbo, it is Thorin. You are safe. You are with us. I have got you. You are fine,” Thorin whispers next to his ear. Bilbo just rocks back and forth and sobs. His brain hurts. Everything _hurts._ “What did you do to him?” Thorin screams and Bilbo just flinches and falls forward.

                _This is Thorin,_ Bilbo thinks through the pain. _Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out and Breathe in. You are alive._ He reassures himself. _The ice is not real. The noise is not real. Just breathe. Thorin is here. Thorin is real._

Bilbo is pulled up close to a warm body and the ringing in his ears subsides.

                “Shh,” Thorin whispers again. “Do not shed anymore tears,” The voice is soft. “Please Bilbo, open your eyes. I am here. We have Donri tied up,” Thorin reassures and Bilbo slowly lowers the hands from over his ears. “That’s it. Open your eyes now,” Thorin orders softly and Bilbo lets his eyelids relax and gradually opens his eyes to the sight of the dwarf-king. His face was skewed with worry and despair. The room is illuminated in a soft-candle glow.

                “Make it stop hurting,” Bilbo whines. His mind is cold. His brain is mush.

                “What is hurting?” Thorin asks again, worry dripping from every word.

                “My head,” Bilbo cries out. “It’s cold and it’s… it’s not working. Thorin, please,” He whines and Thorin pulls him closer.

                “You are like ice,” Thorin whispers. He shifts and Bilbo can feel him grab a blanket from off the bed. He wraps Bilbo up in the fur, envelops him in artificial warmth before cocooning him against his body. “What happened?” Thorin pushes, his voice strong yet soft.

                Bilbo is coming back to his senses and can hear his own teeth chattering loudly. He can feel the sharp and searing pain in his shoulder and the feel of Thorin’s hands rubbing circles into his back. He sobs into Thorin’s shoulder. He feels a pair of lips against his nose and his forehead.

                “What is wrong? What did he do to you?” Thorin asks and Bilbo just shakes his head and digs his head deeper into Thorin’s shoulder, trying to regain warmth in his nose and lips. His ears are like blocks of ice. “Gandalf!” He hears Thorin exclaim and Bilbo continues to shake and shiver. “Something has happened to him. He is practically frozen!” Thorin whispers sadly.

                From the corner of his eyes he can see a flash of grey robes and a feels another five fingers added against his back. The ice is pushed from his veins and he can feel warmth spreading from the extra hand. He stops shivering and he can feel the warmth spread up to his head, seeping into his brain. The ice melts, the blood fills back into his extremities. There are lips on his forehead again. Bilbo goes limp for a short while, just melting into Thorin’s arms. He tries to even his breathing out.

                “What is wrong with him?” Thorin whispers to the wizard.

                “Some magic has been introduced into our hobbit’s system. Had we not discovered him sooner, he would have fell victim to the frost,” Gandalf laments and Bilbo pushes his ears against Thorin’s chest, trying to simply warm them up a little more.

                “Magic?” Thorin sounds perplexed. “Donri is not a wizard. How was this introduced?” Thorin looks around the room.

                “I do not know the origin nor is Bilbo in any condition to give it. We must ask ourselves some solvable questions first, Thorin. Such as the reason as to why Donri is in Bilbo’s quarters at such an hour,” Gandalf looks to the corner and Bilbo turns his head to see many dwarfs piled against the wall of his room. Bombur is sitting on a squirming and complaining Donri. The rest of the dwarfs are wearing frowns with weapons drawn, eyes focused on Bilbo and Thorin.

                “He…” Bilbo speaks through a hoarse voice. “He tried to attack me. He held me down,” Bilbo looks at Thorin. Bilbo can feel clenched fists against his back.

                “Get him out of the room!” Thorin points at Donri. “Keep him locked up and I will deal with him,” Thorin’s voice is harsh and demanding.

                The dwarfs haul Donri off of the ground and shove him forward, hauling him out into the hall.

                “I will give you some time,” Gandalf rises and looks and Thorin. “I would love to offer my word that I will keep your company from killing that dwarf, however,” Gandalf looks at Bilbo. “I will not deny myself the option either.” Gandalf turns around and heads for the hall. “Then again,” He turns around. “Giving my word that I will not kill him is not all that restrictive.” Bilbo sees a smile and the back of Gandalf’s robes as he turns around the corner.

                It is just Bilbo and Thorin alone in a room now. Thorin has not let Bilbo go since he has gotten into the room. At least Bilbo can feel his toes, his nose and his face now. His hair is still standing on end and he can feel the residue from the terrible frost. Thorin takes a moment to examine Bilbo and looks him up and down carefully. Eventually, when his eyes start to roam his back for any sign of injury, he gazes upon the brush burn on the back of his neck, the one that his necklace is currently laying against.

                “What caused this?” Thorin asks. He pulls back on the gold necklace to prevent it from rubbing against the wound.

                “Not what, who…” Bilbo starts. “When I was attacked, he saw the necklace and tried to pull it off.”

                Thorin breaths out forcibly and Bilbo knows that the dwarf-king is doing everything in his power to keep from filling to the brim with anger and lashing out at the dwarf in the next room. Instead, he moves his head back and lays his lips against the brush-burn before pulling away.

                “I am sorry if it hurts, but it helps me,” Thorin breathes out. “It is proof that he knew, in full consciousness that you were claimed by me and he only continued to attack you. I decide his punishment now.” Thorin holds Bilbo at am arm’s length away and looks him straight in the eyes. “Now, explain to me this riddle of how magic got into your system.”

                Bilbo, with his brain only just beginning to thaw, only stutters out several unintelligent responses before settling on a reasonable explanation. “You remember how I could not explain to you how I escaped the orc or how I suddenly vanished from Fili in the forest? Remember how I told you I have something to hide?” Thorin nods but his acknowledgement of the past does nothing to curb the confusion that is gradually appearing on his face. “It has a lot to do with that.”

                The confused look hits its peak expression now.

                “And you cannot tell me? It is placing your life in danger now, Bilbo. I do not know if my patience and ability to curb my curiosity can come first and second to my desire to keep you safe,” Thorin curls a hand around Bilbo’s shaking ones.

                “I do not want to make you worry but at the same time, I need to discover things before I can share everything,” Bilbo looks away. He is afraid that Thorin will be angry, that he will demand to know Bilbo’s secret. He will not be hurt by the anger because he knows that Thorin will only want him to be safe but, at the same time, he does not know if sharing the existence of the ring will place anyone else in danger. If the ring has that much pull on Bilbo, who has no desire for power, how much will it corrupt the people who are trying to regain a throne or take back a kingdom. Thorin is strong but Bilbo has personally felt the power of the ring, the desires it places inside his soul.

                “If this secret continues to hurt you, I cannot let you keep it alone. Will you not pass some of the weight onto me?” Thorin asks, tightening his grip on Bilbo’s hands. Bilbo can see bruises starting to appear on his wrists and lower thighs, where Donri had pinned him to the ground. Thorin wraps Bilbo further into the blanket.

                “I cannot at this moment and I am so sorry,” Bilbo laments and looks truthfully at Thorin.

                Thorin sighs and squints as he glares into Bilbo’s eyes.

                “When I found you, you were screaming your lungs out and crying. You were cold to the touch as if you were freezing from the inside out. I do not think I can bear the thought of finding you like that again. Magic is foreign to me but I know enough to deduce that allowing that kind of magic into your system is not good for you. If it kills you, I will..” Thorin stops and shakes his head. “Do not make me even contemplate that scenario.”

                “I will not,” Bilbo leans forward and pushes his forehead against Thorin’s. “I swore before that I would not allow it to happen again.  Circumstances forced me to go against my word. If I had not reacted, I am not sure you would have found me before Donri would have already had his way with me. I swear though, to you this time, that I will not allow myself to get that way again. Please, I am only asking you to trust me,” Bilbo begs and breathes out. He knows he is asking the dwarf-king for a lot but Thorin just _has_ to trust him.

                “You will tell me someday?” Thorin question, calmly and quietly.

                “I will,” Bilbo promises with a nod.

                “Why do I get the feeling that things will only escalate if this happens again? I get the feeling that I will not be able to see you recover if this happens again?” Thorin’s voice is sad and heavy.

                “Because your feelings are right,” Bilbo admits. “I told you awhile back that I wanted you to kill me if I ever changed so much as to endanger the lives of the group. Do you remember that? It has to do with this. If you find me alive next time, it will not be the same me.”

                Thorin’s eyes widen and he subconsciously pulls Bilbo a little closer. “I will never be able to kill you.”

                “I am not asking you to. I am telling you that I will never put you in that position,” Bilbo responds. Thorin is silent and only holds up one of Bilbo’s bruising wrists to kiss it.

                “I will give you time to explain your secret but I do not want to find you like this again. I would normally be upset but you did what you had to in order to get Donri away from you. I am sorry I could not hear you struggling. I am sorry that I was not there to save you from being pushed to drastic extents. Most dwarfs respect a claim. They will back off. Donri is someone I can never forgive,” Thorin reaches down to repeat the process with Bilbo’s other bruised wrist.

                “What will you do with him?” Bilbo asks, although he already knows the answer. He has seen Thorin and his protective side. The first time Donri attempted anything, Thorin already had the strongest desire to cut him into pieces and he had not even claimed Bilbo then. Now, Donri fully acknowledged the claim and just did not care. He broke in at night and forced Bilbo into the spiritual world, into the madness.

                “I will do what I have to in order to keep you safe,” Thorin responds.

                “Even if that means killing him?” Bilbo asks again.

                “Especially if that means killing him.” Bilbo feels his whole body shake.  “I will not have you watch.” Thorin brushes a bit of Bilbo’s hair back.

                Thorin moves to stand and wraps two arms around Bilbo’s back and under his knees. He lifts Bilbo straight off the ground and navigates him to the bed. Thorin sets him down carefully and withdraws his arms. He wraps Bilbo up in the thick blankets and pulls away, looking down at him with a soft and concerned  smile.

                “I need to handle Donri,” Thorin states after a long moment of silence.

                “Are you going to leave me here?” Bilbo questions, knowing where this conversation is going. Thorin wants to keep Bilbo in bed while he goes off and handles, and potentially kills, Donri. Bilbo wants nothing to do with that plan. He would rather watch the dwarf that hurt him get him punishment. Now, Bilbo is not cruel. His reasons are not cruel behind wanting to watch Donri get his payback.

                Bilbo is still left with the lingering traces of being in the spiritual world. His bones still have tiny ice crystals buried under his skin and his breath feels like frost, like winter wind blowing in from valleys. Thorin’s body heat is keeping him warm and stable. His mind feels like it is only slowly regaining it’s consistency. It is rebuilding itself from the mushed up state it was previously in. He is hanging on a rocky cliff, built on the edge of sanity and insanity, and his fingers are the only thing keeping him from plummeting off the edge, to the outskirts of which lie insanity. Thorin is holding him up, pulling him up as best he can.

                “When you phrase it like that it makes my heart break,” Thorin places one hand on each side of Bilbo.

                “Can I not come with you?” Bilbo inquires.

                “I do not wish for you to see me get my revenge. I need to do what needs to be done but I do not wish for you to view a murderous and vengeful side of me,” Thorin argues.

                “I will not think less of you,” Bilbo shakes his head. “I simply do not wish to be alone.”

                Thorin closes his eyes and breathes out. Bilbo just stays still and silent on the bed.

                Bilbo decides to break the silence in order to influence the next turn of events.

                “Do you ever feel like you are more trouble than you are worth?” Bilbo asks softly while Thorin’s eyes are closed. After the sentence emerges from his lips, after the projected feeling of sadness and worthlessness fills the room, Thorin opens his eyes with an even deeper sadness projected through his downturned lips and his knitted together eyebrows.

                “I do,” Thorin responds. “Though I would not wish the feeling onto anyone else and certainly not onto you. You are not trouble and you are certainly worth it. If you were not here, I would not be alive.” Thorin reaches down and toys with the gold chain around Bilbo’s neck. He is careful not to jerk or tug the chain, as to do so would only rub against Bilbo’s injury.  “I will use every breath of mine to convince you that you belong in this company.”

                Bilbo cannot say anything that will even measure up in comparison to Thorin’s last promise so he simply nods and buries his head into the pillow.

                “You can come with me although I would prefer that you stay and sleep,” Thorin offers and Bilbo just sits up in bed.

                “Even if I were to stay, sleep would not find me,” Bilbo admits and Thorin nods like he understands.

                “Then come along and do not think less of me for what I may do,” Thorin slides off the bed and pulls Bilbo with him.

                Both men blow out the torches in the back of the room before heading out into the hallway.

                Thorin looks at Bilbo with a wary smile as he stands outside of his bedroom door. When he pushes open the door, he sees the rest of the dwarves piled into the room staring at Thorin as he walks in, eyes focused and surrounded in complete silence. Bilbo hangs his head and sneaks nto the back of the room, trying to make as little noise as possible. Donri is tied up in the corner, arms and legs behind his back and cloth shoved into his mouth to silence his bickering. However, as Bilbo examines the room he realizes they are one person up. In the corner, leaning against the wall and glowering down at Donri is the leader, Kubla. Thorin walks right over to him,

                “Before this incident, you had claimed Mister Baggins?” Kubla asks Thorin who only nods and beckons for Bilbo to walk over.

                Bilbo hesitantly takes a few steps forward, uncertainly before Thorin smiles and grabs him by the hand to pull him forward. Thorin lifts up the gold chain and Bilbo turns so Kubla can see the burn on his neck caused from Donri grabbing the chain.

                “He violated my claim on him. That entitles me to retribution,” Thorin proclaims before replacing the gold necklace and squeezing Bilbo’s hand.

                “Indeed, it does,” Kubla bows his head to Thorin. “He is yours to deal with, Thorin Oakenshield.” Kubla tosses a glare back to Donri before turning and leaving. Before exiting he turns back to look at Bilbo with a sympathetic look. “I am sorry again, Mister Baggins that I find you on the odd end of misfortune. However, I must congratulate you on your newly established courting. I would stay and observe but I can assume that your chosen has you in capable hands and Mister Donri in even more capable ones. Call the guards if you need anything cleaned up or disposed of” Kubla smiles and bows out before exiting the room and shutting the room.

                Thorin waits until he hears the clicking of the lock before he withdraws his sword from his belt and runs it through his hands, feeling the edge with his fingertips.

                “Shall we get started then?” He flashes an evil grin towards Donri. “You hurt my hobbit, my courted, and that is not something I can just let slide. You showed him pain and now it is my turn to show you pain.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel that writing chapters at 12pm-3am kind of makes me a little of a sadist towards my characters. My bad. I have actually had this one chapter planned out since the beginning and I was quite excited to write it. Not because of the attack but because of the hold that the ring has on Bilbo and the significance of Thorin finally courting Bilbo. His gold chain was enough to keep him from falling over the edge. Thorin brings him back after he takes the ring off.   
> Next Chapter- We get to see Thorin's possessiveness and his retribution towards Donri along with a little of Donri's side. (I wrote him, I don't like him.)   
> And yes- I may have a slight kink for cliff-hangers. They add to story lines. It is like breaking for a commercial break but instead of commercials, I get some sleep and food along with more time to write the next chapter.   
> Keep reading and reviewing! I love to hear what you guys think about the story.   
> (I also love to see it randomly showing up on my tumblr dash too. Apparently my friends read Thilbo and apparently my friends do not know my pen name)   
> I will have the next chapter up as soon as I can.


	10. Visions, Gifts and Small Miracles between Breaths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tension between Donri and Thorin comes to a climax as Thorin pledges to kill the dwarf for attacking Bilbo. Meanwhile, Bilbo is plagued by the past and cannot sleep. He skirts Thorin's rules and heads to the forest where he meets an interesting female dwarf- A female dwarf who has some important words for Bilbo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, so... 5 days since my last update. I am sorry for the long wait. This chapter is a monster though. Longer than the rest- approximately 16 pages typed out. I'll admit, I had a few distractions- The semester is starting soon so I am trying to get everything together. I have also started watching Merlin and Torchwood so... yeah.. that kept me away from my laptop. I have been working up to this chapter for a while. People have been asking me how dramatically I am going to change the ending of the book and this might answer it (just a little). Thank you for all waiting and thank you for all the kudos and the wonderful reviews. I am surprised at the popularity of this story. Without keeping you for any longer, her is the tenth chapter of Invisible vs. Indivisible.

                Bilbo expected Thorin’s face to be a tight mask of anger as he paced back and forth in front of Donri. Instead, Thorin is calm and collected. He motions with his head and some of the dwarfs leave the room. Thorin turns his back from Donri and looks to inspect his sword, turning it over and over, the elfish blade glimmering off of the torches illuminating the room. Thorin’s face falls into a frown and he shoves his sword back in his sheath. A pensive look emerges before Thorin draws a short dagger from his belt.

                When he turns around, only Balin and Oin remain, sitting in the corner as Donri fights against his bonds. Bilbo silently pads over to the corner where the other dwarfs sit and takes a seat next to Balin. The old dwarf simply pats him on the arm sympathetically before directing his attention back on Thorin.

                The dwarf-king does not remain in one spot. He paces back and forth, knife in hands, looking only at Donri. Bilbo wishes at that moment that he would have been blessed with telepathic powers, or any gift that would allow him a small glimpse into Thorin’s mind. Donri’s death is certainly sealed. It has been since the moment he placed his hands on Bilbo after he had made eye contact with the golden necklace proclaiming Thorin’s courting. The only question now is how long Thorin will drag out the death, the most likely painful murder. Bilbo has seen Thorin’s ruthless side, on the battlefield against Orcs but he has also seen the soft side, the protective and caring side to Thorin. He has seen Thorin stay awake at night and stare at his nephews, watching the rising and falling of their chests before falling asleep himself. Thorin has held him close when he was injured and vowed to protect him. He simply does not know whether Thorin is one to torture someone, let alone a member of his own race. Then again, he has seen Thorin furious at the crime of another dwarf violating his claim. Rationality and remorse may be vacant from his dwarf-king’s head.

                “I wanted no trouble here. I held no malice in my heart when I entered your stronghold but you went and you did the one thing that would guarantee you to become a target for me; you touched one of my companions and not just that. I would have understood perfectly if you were drunk and came onto Bilbo but even after I laid a claim on him, you ignored it and attacked him in his sleep. I have been wracking my brains to figure out why you would go after something that would get you killed and I came to no other solution than the one that labels you suicidal,” Thorin crouches down in front of Donri, knife in his hands. Bilbo shrugs himself a little behind Balin, limiting his view of the scene.

                Thorin reaches down and shoves his knife into the cloth of Donri’s shirt. The dwarf’s eyes widen as Thorin drags the blade down and rips the cloth off of his chest. The shirt comes free and Thorin exposes the open flesh of Donri’s chest and abdomen. Donri shakes and tries to shove himself farther against the wall but the bonds are tight. He is screaming something against the gag.

                Bilbo does not want to watch Thorin torture someone on his behalf. He does not enjoy the screams of people in pain. He does not enjoy seeing his courted dwarf-king with intense anger on his face, ready to kill someone who had attacked him earlier. He loves the protectiveness and he loves the fact that he feels safe again.

                Thorin is standing in front of Donri so he cannot see the next move but after, he hears the muffled screaming of the other dwarf. When Thorin moves back, Bilbo can see a long bleeding gash on the top of Donri’s chest. It does not look like it hit anything vital or an artery, but the blood continues to flow down his chest.

                “I would leave if I were you, lad,” Balin looks at Bilbo who is cringing behind him.

                “I cannot,” Bilbo shook his head. “I do not know why but I feel as if I have an obligation to be here.”

                “This is not a place and time for people who do not know violence or the battlefield, Bilbo. I am sure that Thorin does not want you to see him like this,” Balin whispers, sticking close to Bilbo’s ear so that Thorin cannot overhear them.

                He bends down again and there is another new cut on Donri’s chest. Bilbo looks away, willing himself to not look at the scene in front of him. He knows that the dwarf struggling and screaming against his bonds will soon be dead. He knows the loss of life will be caused by Thorin’s hands.

                “Now, listen up because I want some words in your thick skull before you meet an untimely end,” Thorin stands to the side of Donri, now with blood coating his entire torso. “I am used to losing things, to permanent things drifting to a more temporary time span. I may even lose the relative permanence that can keep me alive until old age but I will not have you take Bilbo before his time is up nor will I have you spoil any small amount of that time. I know the small gift that comes with each second, each inhale, each blink of an eye and you have been wasting it,” Thorin leans down and presses a hand angrily against the dwarf’s chest. He shoves a thumb against one of the wounds and pushes. Donri grunts behind the gag and his eyes roll back slightly.

                Bilbo refuses to look at Donri’s face after that. He appears mesmerized with the red droplets on the floor that are falling in even seconds. They fall off of shaking fingers and a trembling chest. They hit the stone ground and sit. They even out. Occasionally two drops would fall on each other on the dark stone. Bilbo continues to watch and the red only continues to fall. Bilbo keeps his head down, watching the process until he hears the sound of metal dropping against the ground. Bilbo is forced to look up to see the source of the noise and notices that Thorin has dropped his knife to the ground. Bilbo can no longer see any of Donri’s pale flesh. Now it is covered in vertical and horizontal gashes, splits in the skin currently letting loose crimson rivers. Thorin’s hands are covered in the same color and he turns away from the paling Donri. He looks only at Bilbo.

                “I thought that this would stop my blood from boiling, would ease the rage in my veins but it does not such thing. It is only heaping guilt onto an already overflowing pile,” He looks back at Donri. “I will ease your passing dwarf, but only to quell the thoughts in my head.  Close your eyes dwarf and it will be over sooner than you think,” Thorin remarks and wipes his hands off on a rag. He unsheathes his sword and turns it over in his hands.

                Bilbo finally musters up the will to look straight at Donri. The dwarf was able to look Bilbo in the eyes during his most vulnerable moments, when he was pinned on the floor, completely submissive and at the will of his attacker. Bilbo figures that he should be allowed the same privilege.

                What Bilbo sees however, is by no means settling. Like Thorin, he figured that the sight of Donri in pain and fearful would do something to calm his nerves and settle his mind. It does no such thing. Donri is on the ground shaking, his face pale and covered in perspiration. His physical state is not what so affects him. When he looks into his eye, Bilbo sees fear and misunderstandings. He can see several broken dreams coming to the surface, missed opportunities and overlooked adventure. He can see through to the soul of a man who is staring down death’s open arms. Bilbo has no amount of mercy in his heart for someone who attacked him, who held him down with such ill intentions, but he does have mercy for the soul of a dwarf who has not yet lived to fulfill his full potential. Any life cut too short is such an overwhelming tragedy. Bilbo stands on shaking legs as Thorin faces Donri, not seeing his hobbit rise to his feet.

                Donri shifts, sending rivers of red fluid to the stone floor even faster than before. He grunts as Thorin grows closer. Balin just looks at Bilbo with a slight and almost knowing smile. Bilbo pads on silent feet right behind Thorin. As Thorin lifts up his blade, Bilbo gently wraps his hand around the dwarf-king’s wrist.

                “Bilbo?” Thorin inquires and Bilbo simply eases Thorin’s sword hand down. Donri trembles in the corner, obviously frightened but looking curious as to the scene unfolding in front of him.

                “Can you hear me out for a moment?” Bilbo requests and Thorin lets his sword hand return limply to his side.

                “Of course but can it not wait?” Thorin demands and Bilbo just shakes his head.

                “I am afraid not,” Bilbo soothes. “If we wait then my point will be invalid.”

                Thorin shoves his sword into his belt and turns to face Bilbo. He places a hand on the right of his jaw and lowers his forehead so they are close to one another.

                “You swore to me you would not view me differently. That you would not judge me for what happens in this room,” Thorin turns to look at Balin and Oin who have conveniently, and coincidentally, looked away. Thorin drops his hand and averts his eyes. From the corner, Bilbo can make out the look of pain and betrayal. The hobbit knows he has to speak up.

                “My views of you have not strayed, Thorin. Nor do I think that you have cruelty and mercilessness in your heart. I simply wished to speak to you for a moment,” Bilbo reassures as he grabs Thorin’s arm.

                “Then speak,” Thorin looks at Bilbo with a half-smile. He lays a hand atop the one Bilbo has already placed on the king’s arm. Bilbo pulls him over to the corner of the room.

                “A good friend told me once that courage is not being able to take a life but knowing when to spare a life,” Bilbo smiles as he quotes Gandalf. “I will not deny you the right you have to end his life but I am asking you to consider the crime versus the punishment.  He has violated your claim, yes but there are alternative ways to punish someone besides death,” Bilbo reasons. He cannot bear to see the loss of opportunity, of a life long lived, in the dwarfs eyes.

                “But you will not judge me if I were to heed your statement but take his life anyway?” Thorin asks and, although Bilbo feels his heart sink into his abdomen, he nods.

                “He has assaulted me so I hold no mercy in my heart for the likes of him but I am a hobbit of simple nature. We know not of executing people for violating claims or courting rituals. Thorin, I respect you greatly for taking this onto your hands, to punish him the way that you see fit. It is no longer my say as to what happens to him,” Bilbo argues and pulls away his hand. Thorin just nods.

                “Take a step back next to Balin and Oin, please?” Thorin asks and Bilbo looks away but nods, trotting over to his spot and sinking back into a sitting position. Balin pats him on the shoulder, his uninjured one, with an air of sympathy.

                Thorin draws his blade again and looks at Donri straight into the eye.

                “I hope that gave you a glimpse into the heart of the hobbit you tried to take advantage of. You tried to corrupt that goodness. Even after you held him down and attacked him, he pleads for mercy for you. Do you think you are deserving of such mercy?” Thorin demands and look straight at Donri. The dwarf-king even kneels and unties the gag in Donri’s mouth, letting the cloth slip out to reveal his chapped lips.

                “Speak up and speak the truth,” Thorin proclaims. “Your life does depend upon it.”

                Donri takes a minute to just lick his lips. He coughs a few time and analyzes the room, his eyes scanning over every wall fixture, every blemish of the stone floor.

                “Do you deserve such mercy, dwarf?” Thorin yells and Donri flinches back, eyeing the blade with fear.

                “N-No, I do not deserve his mercy,” Donri looks at Bilbo before hanging his head.

                Bilbo watches the scene with an intense mixture of fear and suspense. It is as if he knows something tragic will happen but needs to keep watching to see exactly _how_ it happens.

                “Then we finally have something that we can both agree upon,” Thorin grabs Donri’s chin and pulls it up. “He is mine. It is hard to believe a hobbit such as him would agree to a displaced king’s courting offer but he did and I will protect him and cherish his every breath. You did something that endangered him and I can never forgive you for that.”

                Thorin brings the blade up to his throat and looks down, Donri staring at the blade with a mournful look. The two stay like that for a good few minutes before Thorin sighs and drops the blade down. Instead, he walks around Donri and starts sawing away at the bonds that keep him captive.

                “If Bilbo can dig up the mercy in his heart to spare you, the kindness to reconsider your rightfully deserved execution, then I can certainly find some in my own. You are free but you must leave this stronghold. You must never return here, I will arrange it with Kubla. If you presented a risk to my courted, you present a risk to any unsuspecting dwarf. I will set you free on the condition that you leave and that I may never cast my eyes on your face again,” Thorin looks Donri dead center in the eyes, waiting for his response.

                Donri looks between Bilbo, Balin, Oin and Thorin before nodding quickly.

                “Do you understand and agree to this? Speak a word of dissent and I will be more than happy to end your life quickly.” Thorin runs a hand through his hair while he waits, shifting feet anxiously.

                “I… I accept. I accept graciously. I know that this is not deserved and I am thankful for your clemency,” Donri stutters out as Thorin releases the bonds on his legs.

                Donri stands up but does not run away. He looks to Thorin as he re-sheathes his sword.

                Thorin grabs him by the collar as he shoves him out the door. “You will accompany me to Kubla’s chambers or I will have the guards shoot you down as you stand. I need him to guarantee your exile.” Donri just nods. Thorin watches him as he walks backwards to Bilbo. “Daylight is almost upon us. I would have you rest but I know you will not. I need to head down to the forges with some of our men, repair our weapons and armor and such. You may do as you wish but do not venture beyond the walls of this dwelling, okay? Evil may also be found hiding within the hearts of dwarfs, as you have no doubt uncovered by now. I will see you later. I will return and we will find some rest then, yes?” Thorin requests and Bilbo just nods. Thorin looks back at Donri, making sure of his presence before bending down and placing a kiss right above Bilbo’s brow. “If you find my nephews, one of them may accompany you throughout the day if you so wish.”

                “Thank you,” Bilbo responds and looks towards the still shaking dwarf ex-captive. “In more ways than one.”

                “Your thanks and gratitude are not well placed. You are not the one that should be thanking me,” Thorin replies softly. He lays a hand on the side of Bilbo’s neck. He withdraws it after a moment and nods towards Balin and Oin. The two dwarfs stand and brush off their clothing before stepping beside Thorin to accompany him.

                “Idle times make for mischievous hobbits, Thorin,” Balin laughs.

                “I have faith in Bilbo to make good use of his down time,” Thorin looks towards Bilbo for confirmation.

                “Ay, I have no yet been to a dwarf dwelling and, as I have a lot to learn,  I feel as if I will have no free time at all,” Bilbo smiles and Thorin just laughs as he walks out of the room with the three other dwarfs.  Balin closes the door behind them.

                Standing in a room, all on his own, Bilbo looks around. He notices the large bed in the center. His eyelids feel heavy but he does not have the fatigue or weakness that indicates he must sleep. Bilbo hesitantly walks over to the bed and climbs atop, nestling himself amongst the covers. He closes his eyes and inhales deeply. He catches a small scent of Thorin, of the smell he recognizes whenever Thorin embraces him. He smiles and tries to fall asleep, the events of the day weighing away at him. Bilbo breathes out and tries to relax.

                His mind does the opposite of relaxing. As he tries to calm his breathing, his mind races. He can feel the ice in his veins. The screeching resonates in his ear canals. He can feel the dirty hands of the orc holding him, dragging him away. He can practically feel Donri’s chapped lips against his own and the overpowering arms pinning him against the ground, leaving him defenseless.

                Bilbo sits up in bed and comes to the depressing conclusion that he will not sleep while the other dwarfs are out and about. He simply does not want to fall asleep, alone in a room, where any dwarf with the knowledge enough to pick a lock can come in and attack him. He simply will not have that happen again so he heeds Thorin’s words. He will look around while he has the time off from the quest.

                Bilbo slowly opens the door and looks around. He runs back to his room to retrieve his sword and a small pack of stuff. While Thorin and the rest slave away in the forge, he will go out for a bit of exploring. He walks down the hall and sees two open doors at the end. He walks over silently and sees Fili and Kili, in a room, packing stuff into a bag and checking their weapons.

                “What are you packing for?” Bilbo asks, watching the two brothers notice his presence before going back to checking their packs.

                “Ah, Bilbo… I see you are out and about. That is good to see,” Kili walks over and pats him on the shoulder before reaching behind him to grab an outer coat. “We are going out with the hunting squad to bag us some food. You are welcome to come with us,” Kili pulls on the coat.

                “Thorin forbade me from entering into the woods, from leaving the stronghold,” Bilbo answers hesitantly, watching the expressions on the faces of the two dwarfs.

                Fili smiles and patted Kili on the shoulder.

                “Do you hear that, brother? Uncle _forbade_ Bilbo from leaving the stronghold. Do you know what dear Bilbo should do now?” Fili inquires and both brothers soon develop wicked looking grins on their faces.

                “Well, Fili… that leaves him with only one thing he can do,” Fili shifts back and forth from the heels of his feet to his toes and back again.

                “What is that?” Bilbo asks, knowing he is walking right into a trap of a conversation.

                “You must follow us into the forest for the hunting mission. After all, what fun is listening to an order?” Fili responds.

                “The fact that this is coming from the heirs to the throne of Erebor is quite alarming,” Bilbo crosses his arms and looks at the two brothers with a look of disdain.

                “As Thorin is currently the reigning king, Fili and I both have some time for trickery and deceit. We know well our limits, Bilbo. However, following the rules in life only makes you miss out on several experiences. Now come and follow us out into the forests. Some of the other dwarfs may even give you a lesson in sword fighting,” Kili answers and throw his pack over the shoulder. They dwarfs both stand there, ready to depart and looking at Bilbo with smirks on their faces.

                Bilbo paces back and forth near the entrance, considering his options. Thorin did say that if he were to go exploring he should see his nephews. Also, Thorin has known the dwarfs for many years so he must know that the two heirs are notorious for skirting the rules. Bilbo knows that this line of reasoning means that he has already made up his mind. He is simply trying to find a way to validate his decision in case Thorin is angered when he does not heed his warning.

                “I will accompany you but, and I trust that you will not disagree, it is best for Thorin to not know about how I spend my day,” Bilbo smiles. As a young hobbit, he was more than used to skirting the rules around Bags End. He would miss meal times while exploring the forest and he would track mud all over the house, much to the contempt of his relatives.

                “Oh, we more than agree but is it best for Thorin or best for you?” Kili grins again and raises an eyebrow.

                “Best for the both of us, perhaps,” Bilbo scratches the back of his head.

                “No use arguing who is keeping secrets versus who is being kept from the secret,” Fili guides both his brother and the hobbit out the door before checking the locked door twice before setting out.

                Bilbo, Fili and Kili met with a group of ten other armed dwarfs in the lobby. The entire time, Bilbo was on alert. He would walk down the hallways checking every corner to make sure the dwarf-king was not lurking around, spying on him and shaking his head at Bilbo’s disobedience. They set out for the forest, singing along the way and wishing towards unknown deities, their ancestors, for a good hunt.

                Bilbo stayed a little behind the group. Even though they accepted him with open arms, eying the chain around his neck with smiles and congratulations, he felt as if he did not belong. He kept his eyes on the two brothers and kept his hand on the hilt of his sword. At the same time, he watched at all angles for his prey. He knew he would most likely not catch something on foot, chasing after it with a sword but he was to inform the hunting party, mainly the archers, if there was a chance of bagging a decent meal’s worth of meat.

                After ten minutes and a few game hunted down, Bilbo catches something out of the corner of his eye.  He swears, from his first impression, that it is an elderly dwarf. He does not say anything to the hunting group. He simply watches as the image comes and goes. When he sees it a second time, the hunting group is running after a pack of wild hogs.  With thoughts of a hearty pork meal in their minds, they do not notice as Bilbo slips away.

                He follows the rush of color and cloak into the brush and sees the side profile of a dwarf kneeling over a river and picking plants. The dwarf places the roots and flowers into a basket already half-full with colorful petals and dirt covered fibrous stems. Bilbo’s acute hearing can pick up a slow happy hum floating around in the air and Bilbo steps forward to ask a dwarf why they may be so far out in the forest. Normally dwellings have a set distance for how far the citizens can venture out while still maintaining the security granted from the kingdom. The dwarf dwellings were not exceptions. Bilbo saw the handwritten signs awhile back and this dwarf was well outside of that boundary.

                He steps forward to speak to the dwarf but his foot slips into a rabbit hole and he goes falling forward. He grunts in surprise. The dwarf looks up in fear but, after seeing Bilbo in complete disarray, the dwarf just snorts and goes back to gathering foliage.

                Bilbo snuffs and stands up, brushing the dry dirt off of his clothing and shoes. The dwarf continues humming. Bilbo moves forward, aware now of a new pain in his ankle. He grins and bears the pain, stepping forward towards the riverbank and towards the new dwarf.

                “Well, lad,” The dwarf responds and there is a lighter pitch to their voice. “Are you just going to stand there or will you do a good deed and help an old maid with her duties?”

                Bilbo stops in his path and just stands there. He looks the dwarf over from head to toe.

                “You are…” Bilbo pauses and shakes his head. Instead, he kneels down and watches the dwarf pull up a long, tall flower with pink and purple flowers. He does the same and starts tossing them into the wicker basket.

                “I am indeed a female dwarf. Many of us are not granted the permission to leave the stronghold walls but I am allowed to leave to collect my plants,” The old dwarf responds and Bilbo starts to notice differences in the female dwarf. He sees a bust line, a different jaw and cheek structure. Her figure is slightly different, curves in different spots and different body angles. She has no beard but there is stubble present enough to make Bilbo question her gender. “I may not be as young and beautiful as I once was, long beard and beautiful brown hair but being female will not change with age. Not those Amaranth colors ones, those are toxic. You want the flowers with the deep carmine petals that promote wound healing.”

                Bilbo takes a good three minutes to distinguish between the two plants. Of course nature would have it that similar looking toxic plants would grow next to helpful looking flowers of the same color.

                “Do you live in the stronghold as well?” Bilbo asks, trying to make pleasant conversation as he digs his fingers into the dirt to pull out the plants, roots and all.

                “No, I do not like to live far from nature. I live outside the stronghold and Kubla grants me security in exchange for elixirs, antidotes and potions,” The female responds. “I am Edna and what is your name young helper?”

                “I am Bilbo Baggins,” Bilbo nods his head in respect for the elder.  “Is that not a lonely lifestyle? Have you any children?” Bilbo inquires to keep the conversation going.

                “I have four. I have three warrior sons and a daughter that runs the kitchens in the stronghold but I live out here. It is a pleasant lifestyle,” Edna responds, her voice soft and slow.

                “Have you a husband?” Bilbo smiles at the mention of the children.

                “Once upon a time I did. But he is long since deceased,” Edna smiles and pats the basket full of herbs down. “Collect these Malachite colored herbs next. They will provide numbness to the skin needed for disinfecting wounds,” Edna replies and Bilbo examines the plant she holds up. He nods and starts putting more herbs into the basket.

                “I am sorry for your loss,” Bilbo bows his head but Edna just pats him on the shoulder.

                “Our years were happy and joyful. I do not cry over a loss of a dwarf who lived so plentifully,” Edna looks at Bilbo before standing and taking the basket into her hands. Bilbo picks one last herb and slips it in. “If you accompany me back to my dwelling I will make us a mid-afternoon meal and treat that ankle of yours.”

                Bilbo is surprised by the offer and only smiles before easing the basket out of Edna’s hands and following her into the forest.

                “I should not be gone long. I was out with a hunting party and if they find me gone, they will be concerned and send word to…” Bilbo catches himself and stops his mouth from rambling out personal details.

                “They will send word to your courted, the dethroned king of Erebor, Thorin Oakenshield,” Edna smiles and Bilbo’s breath hitches.

                “How did you know?” Bilbo questions.

                “Word travels fast, master hobbit, even to the outskirts and front yard of my cottage. Also, that necklace of yours is fine dwarfen gold. I have seen its type worn by the old warriors of Erebor. But do not fret, hobbit. The dwarf king is busy in the mines, releasing his aggression on forged metal and the young princes are enthralled in the hunt. You have some time,” Edna responds and Bilbo looks at her curiously.

                “How do you know who accompanied me?” Bilbo inquires once more.

                “When someone reaches a level of clarity, there are many paths that may be revealed before one’s eyes,” Edna reflects and, after they climb a small hill, a near mountain, Bilbo can see a small dwelling in the distance.

                “You sound a bit like Gandalf,” Bilbo laughs and walks closer and closer to the dwelling.

                “Gandalf, the wizard?” Edna questions, esteem lurking on the edge of her tone.

                “Indeed, he is the wizard in our company,” Bilbo responds just as they reach the door. The dwelling is made of stone with a metal tiled roof. She pushes the wooden and iron wrought open to reveal a small but humble dwelling. Bilbo follows her in and sets the basket down on a wooden table in the middle of a room.

                The house is well-furnished. It has a few chairs, a bedroom in the back with a large bed and various seats and tables. There are a few cabinets along with a working table full of vials and stone bowls.

                Edna pats the seat of a wooden chair and she pulls it out from the table. Bilbo walks over and sighs as the weight is taken off of his ankle. She rushes around to the cabinet and pulls out some cloth bandages and a bottle with a dark brown liquid inside.

                Edna leans down and gently takes Bilbo’s ankle. She smears the contents of the bottle onto the ankle and pats it in before wrapping it up in cloth bandages. After she finishes, Bilbo flexes his ankle and finds that the pain is gone.

                “Thank you very much,” Bilbo smiles. “I am in your debt.”

                “You are not,” Edna stands. “You helped me with my errands. If you help me with our meal, we will have no unpaid debts.”

                Bilbo nods and walks with Edna to the cabinets to pull out some wrapped up meat and vegetables.

                “So, tell me more about this Thorin Oakenshield. Are you in love Mister Baggins?” Edna tuts and Bilbo just looks at her with surprise.

                “Love?” Bilbo questions, as if the topic is foreign.

                “You have accepted his conditions for courting. Surely you hold some level of affection for the cast out king?” Edna asks, cutting the meat, pork by the looks of it, and putting into a metal skillet pan. She places it over the fire and Bilbo takes a watch.

                “I-“ Bilbo pauses at the question. He ponders it.

                Is he in love? Can a king, someone with a throne and unimaginable riches within his reach, really fall in love with a simple hobbit such as himself? Will he not leave him when he takes his throne chair and looks over a mighty stronghold? No, Bilbo has his hesitations. He held them in his heart even as he accepted the courting. His fantasies of falling in love and following his mate on adventures and great quests influenced his decisions and in the back of his mind, he figured that maybe, just by a small stroke of luck, Thorin would honor his oath and keep him by his side.

                “You need not answer,  Bilbo Baggins. I can guess your hesitations,” Edna answers, smiling as the smell of cooking meat fills the small cottage. “You hold feeling for him but you doubt his feelings towards you,” Edna clicks her tongue while cutting away at vegetable. Bilbo turns the meat over in the pan.

                “He is a king and I am a hobbit. Such things are not meant to last,” Bilbo confesses, shaking his head. He cannot even begin to ponder how Edna can read his deepest thoughts, sense his hesitations but he does not care. He wishes for someone to talk to.

                “Things are never meant to last,” Edna responds in a low tone. “Mortality is a curse and a blessing alike. You learn to appreciate things as they come along. Everyone is so eager to wish for an eternity but what matters are the small moments, the seconds between each breath. Those are the moments that should be cherished. So what if you do not have an eternity with your dwarf-king? That matters not. Bilbo Baggins, as a hobbit you should know that even if you are with him for a night, for two different moons or many, it is an experience none the less,” Edna rationalizes and Bilbo only stares at the woman for a short while. She has a valid point. “Do not let that meat burn, Bilbo or I will have you go out and hunt for more.”

                Bilbo snaps out of his reverie and turns the meat over. When he finds it sufficiently cooked, he pulls it out and places it on two plates that Edna hands him. They fill their plates and settle down at the table.

                “You speak as if you have lost? Is it your husband who you speak of?” Bilbo asks and takes a bite of food.

                “My husband and my other loves. I was cast out of my old village because I did not believe in the dwarfish quality of monogamy. I believe each moment was made to share with another, to forge deeper bonds with those we are close to. I was taken up by Kubla, offered a home for my children, who share different fathers.” Edna speaks as she eats. “Thorin promised you an eternity with his courting. As he lives, he will be yours. It is in the nature of dwarfs to heed to that tradition. If you fret on the idea of Thorin straying, he has given you his oath.”

                “But if you strayed…” Bilbo shakes his head.

                “It was not straying as my husband allowed it. He too stood by my idea that life is not permanent enough to grant you connections with only one,” Edna argues, her voice growing louder. “Some things need to be kindled and sometimes things need to be dismantled.”

                “And what of your children? Do they too subscribe to the idea of multiple partners?” Bilbo asks curiously.

                “My children,” Edna reaches out and grabs a book from a nearby shelf, “have found their one true loves and they need not listen to an old dwarf such as myself.” Edna opens up the book to a portrait of six dwarfs, each independently sketched.

                Bilbo catches his breath as he looks at the picture, surprised at one dwarf drawing in particular. He zones out as Edna speaks. “This is me and my husband, Uldo. This is my eldest son, Dwalak, my middle son Barur, my daughter who comes after, Mado and her youngest brother, Donri,” Edna speaks and Bilbo stills.

                _Donri is Edna’s son._

                “You hesitate, young hobbit and I know why. You encountered my son in the Great Hall and later in your chambers. He tested the bond between your chosen and you. It is not my fate to interfere in your life any longer, Bilbo,” Edna reasons and Bilbo feels the hair on his arms lower, even if just slightly. “As I said before, some things need to be kindled.”

                “How do you know all of this?” Bilbo shouts. He is tired of being lead around, given cryptic answers.

                “I told you; those with a clear mind can see many chosen paths. I have been watching your path Bilbo Baggins,” Edna cleared her plate and Bilbo choked a little on his food.

                “Why?” Bilbo backs up, sliding his hand to his blade.

                “Let me tell you a story first,” Edna holds a hand up as a peace offering.

                “Go on before I go running off to find the hunting party,” Bilbo threatens.

                “My son, Donri… He was born to a dwarf who dwelled in the woods, next to a small mine. He would make the strongest swords I have ever laid my eyes upon. They would cut through nearly anything, their edges would never dull. He had a keen mind for adventure and after I set forth to this place, I had Donri right on the floor of this cottage. Screaming thing he was. He inherited his father’s mind for adventure but not his courage to start new things. When he was young, he wanted to be a mapmaker, to chart unseen lands, but he never had the bravery to leave. He thought it was his duty to watch out for his elderly and aging mother. I wanted nothing more than to see him off and watch him live out his dreams but he would not leave and I only saw him fall to despair and a broken dream. There was a path; I saw it, that presented the opportunity for him to leave and live out his dream. As long as he could stay here, he would,” Edna presents and Bilbo’s eyes widen.      

                He takes into account Lady Edna’s words. Every single one of them. _As long as he can stay here,_ Edna remarks and everything falls in line for him. With Thorin demanding exile, Donri will leave. He can go and become a mapmaker.

                “Are you a seer?” Bilbo yells. “Did you send Donri to attack me, knowing that Thorin would claim me and your son would be outlawed?” Bilbo withdraws his sword and paces around.

                He has been led here as a trap. He has been used so Edna could reap the benefits of the endgame. She would see her son as a mapmaker. He got attacked and all Donri gets is a chance to live out his dream. This cannot be happening.

                “There are many names for those who look towards the future, who claim fate as their master. Seer is among them. I did speak with Donri about what path an encounter with you could lead him on and he heeded my prophecy. I am sorry, Mister Baggins, that in order to spare my son from a lifetime of an unlived dream, I had to cause you pain but I knew that this path would lead you onto the path of one other, Thorin Oakenshield,” Edna stood up and leaned her weight against the table.

                “How would you know that Thorin would show mercy to your son? If it were not for me, he would be lying in a pool of his own blood. If your plan had not gone even a small amount according to your vision, you would have no son at all,” Bilbo backs against a wall. He wonders how long it will take of him running to reach Kili and Fili along with the rest of the hunting party.

                “I know of your heart, Bilbo. My son did not violate your privacy to an extreme and you would not have had him killed at your hands nor the hands of your beloved. You have helped my son, Bilbo and I cannot thank you enough. I do not mean you harm but, because you have suffered, I will offer you a gift,” Edna offers and points to the chair where Bilbo was previous sitting. “You still owe me a finished dinner conversation, please young hobbit,” She requests and Bilbo looks into the eyes of the female dwarf.

                There is no malice and no ill-intent. There is only seriousness, remorse and a glint of something Bilbo cannot identify.

                “I was violated. What can you offer to atone for that?” Bilbo feels like he is a piece in a puzzle, used my some guiding hand and being shoved into a spot in which he does not belong.

                “Advice and a bit of warning,” Edna sits and Bilbo eyes her before slouching down into a chair as well.

                “I am interested,” Bilbo raises an eyebrow, interested in what information a seer could offer a hobbit that is out on a dangerous quest.

                “You and your companions set forth on a quest but a dragon is not your biggest concern. Some of your enemies are intangible qualities, things that cannot be stabbed or defeated with magic or the blade of a sword, the arrow of a bow. Greed and pride are normally at the forefront of such things. Keep your loved ones close to your Bilbo Baggins and make sure your priorities are straight as can be,” Edna warns and Bilbo nods and stands up, readying himself to leave. Edna stands to intercept him. “Wait, hobbit.. I am not done. You will face a battle that will determine the strength of the bond between Thorin and yourself. If you choose a right path, the bond may become harder than any gem, any forged blade. If you choose the wrong path, the bond may be broken by dirt,” Edna warns and Bilbo looks at her curiously.

                “Hard as a gem but frail as dirt? That is quite a difference,” Bilbo speaks up.

                “If only you knew the difference,” Edna speaks and Bilbo just stands there.

                “Have you anything else to say?” Bilbo asks the seer dwarf.

                “Love, even for a moment, is a powerful thing,” Edna remarks. “But not all stories need end the same. In some stories, heroes fall. In others, they flourish. Sometimes things just need a little nudge to fall into place. Find the right path, Bilbo Baggins. Your future happiness may depend upon it,” Edna walks over and places a hand on Bilbo’s shoulder.

                “Am I meant to be alone then? Am I meant to be perpetually sad?” Bilbo questions, tears threatening to fall from his face. He may not be the most intelligent hobbit alive but he can read into some of the queues.

                “No, no you are not. While they are some futures engrained into stone, many are pliable. Some live into legends while others live in the hearts of the people who can tell their stories the best. Bilbo Baggins, you are a strong man. You will do what is best,” Edna reassures him. “You will not need to bear anything alone anymore. The gold chain around your neck reassures you of that. Trust Thorin. You may doubt his love but his heart does not. His mind does not either. He loves you, Bilbo. You must ask yourself if you can reciprocate the feelings. If you do not, it is dwarf courtesy to return the chain,” Edna looks away. “Thank you for keeping me company, Bilbo Baggins and thank you for allowing my son to live out his dream.”

                “Will I lose Thorin?” Bilbo yells as he turns to leave. “Will I lose him? I am not the most intelligent but I am quite good at riddles. That is what you are hinting at, no?” Bilbo feels a few tears on his cheek now.

                “You have Thorin now. It is the moments between breaths that matter. Hold him close,” Edna whispers.

                “No,” Bilbo stands back. “No. We will reclaim Erebor. He will become King, he cannot die. He…” Bilbo falls to the ground, tears finally claiming his eyes and cheeks.

                He is close to Thorin. He feels connected to him. He is being courted by him and now he has been told that he is destined to lose him. It as if he were finding out that he has a terrible and incurable disease that will soon claim his life except it is not his life, it is Thorin’s. He wants to throw things. He wants to lock Thorin away, have him abandon his quest and keep him close to him so that he may never die. _Everyone dies,_ Bilbo thinks. Can he not just be happy? Can he not just love- No. He will not finish that yet.

                “Have you not heeded my words at all? There are multiple paths. Some may already be published in books, in tomes, for future generations but that does not mean that path is the one you need to choose. It lies within our souls and our hearts to direct us upon our intended paths,” Edna lays a hand over Bilbo’s chest, above his heart.

                Bilbo will not stop crying.

                “I need to know that I will save him or I will abandon this quest,” Bilbo drops his sword to the ground.

                “If you choose a path, there are always outcomes. Sometimes the ones we lose are meant to be lost,” Edna reasons and Bilbo shakes his head. “Small little actions are like rolling a small ball down a mountain. By the time it reaches the end, it is a large mountain of frost.”

                “I need to see Thorin,” Bilbo stands to leave.

                “Be warned, hobbit. I gifted this knowledge to you on the sole purpose of hoping you will change some things. If you reveal it to another soul, some paths may be lost to you,” Edna shakes a finger at him.

                “I need to keep this information to myself? That is another burden I am forced to bear alone,” Bilbo mutters to himself.

                “You are not alone. Now go, Bilbo Baggins. If you stay another minute longer, Thorin and his men will storm this house to reclaim you. Walk back to the stronghold on your own free will,” Edna looks out the window like she can see something that Bilbo cannot. Bilbo takes his stuff, his pack and his sword and makes to leave.

                “Thank you,” Bilbo wipes his eyes. “I do not know much about fate but I know that I cannot let Thorin go. I will not let him go. I will save him, Edna,” Bilbo promises.

                “I hope so, master hobbit. I really hope so,” Edna pats him on the shoulder and shoves him out the door. “Now get going, Thorin is worried and he has a gift for you.”

                “Thank you,” Bilbo repeats and runs off, the whole conversation replaying itself in his mind.

                Bilbo runs along the path and hears no rustling in the woods. He keeps his sword by his side, ready to draw it at a moment’s notice. When he nears the stronghold, he can hear yelling in dwarfish voices. He hides behind a tree to see what the commotion is.

                When he looks into the clearing, at the base of the stronghold, he can see Thorin yelling to armed dwarfs. He looks worried and pressured. When he looks to the side, he can see Kili and Fili with guilty looks upon their faces. He places what is going on. Thorin is sending out a search party for him.

                Bilbo sighs before running out into the clearing. The dwarf guards turn towards him, weapons out and ready to attack him before an order is heard to stand down.

                “Bilbo!” Thorin yells as he runs over. Thorin does not stop as he runs close to him. Instead, he pulls him into a heavy hug and does not let him go. “Where were you? Kili and Fili said you wandered off and I thought…. I thought that,” Thorin stops and Bilbo can feel as his chest heaves in and out rapidly. “Nevermind that. You are here right now and that is all that matters. Although… the fact that you were in the forest in the first place displeases me. I should have guessed my nephews would be up to some trouble. They will have a piece of my displeasure soon,” Thorin kisses the top of his head.

                Bilbo concocts a lie before he stops himself. He promised no more lies.

                “I saw a dwarf in the forest collecting herbs and I went off to help her. I lost track of time,” Bilbo admits and Thorin looks down at him with a small smile. “I am sorry for worrying you, Thorin.”

                “A female dwarf- eh?” Thorin chuckles. “I do not have any competition for you, do I?”

                “Not at all,” Bilbo laughs, resting his head against Thorin’s chest. When they release the hug, Thorin pats his back.

                “Good, because I would have to find someone else to give this gift to. Although, it would not hold much importance in someone else’s hands,” Thorin grins.

                _Thorin is worried and he has a gift for you is what Edna said. There must be some truth to her words,_ Bilbo tries to mask his sadness.

                Thorin pulls out a small bundle from his coat and Bilbo stares as he sees something wrapped up in cloth and twine.

                “Is this my handkerchief?” Bilbo laughs, recognizing the cloth.

                “I was holding on to it for you,” Thorin grins.

                Bilbo unties the thread from the kerchief and reveals a dagger, sharp and shiny. On it is some words written in a different language. The blade is light and Bilbo can see his reflection in the metal. It looks new, as if it has not yet seen battle. Bilbo lifts his head as a thought crosses his mind. Thorin was in the forges all day. He was working on weapons.

                “Did you make this?” Bilbo marvels at the quality of the blade. It looks expertly crafted.

                “I did,” Thorin smiles proudly as he looks down at the dagger. “You need a back-up to that sword of yours and a dagger suits a burglar well.”

                Bilbo feels the blade with his fingers; runs his fingers over the handle, blue with gems and wrapped in leather strips. It fits comfortably in his hands.

                “What does the blade say?” Bilbo inquires curiously.

                “It says,” Thorin touches the blade and the carved in lettering. “Bilbo Baggins, Hobbit of Erebor.”

                Bilbo looks at the blade and back at Thorin who is looking at him and the dagger fondly.

                Bilbo holds the dagger in the cloth close to him, close to his heart. He looks towards Thorin with tears leaking from his eyes. 

                “What is the matter, Bilbo? Why do you shed tears?” Thorin’s smile drops and he pushes a thumb against the tears cascading down his face.

                Bilbo shakes his head to rid himself from the tears. He does not respond and simply hugs Thorin.

                “Thank you for the gift, Thorin. I love it. It is amazing,” Bilbo nods against Thorin’s chest. Bilbo looks around and sees the rest of the dwarfs suddenly occupied and averting their eyes. “Thorin- I,” Bilbo looks at the dagger and back to the dwarf-king who is staring at him with concerned orbs for eyes.

                “What is it? You can tell me,” Thorin presses, keeping his arm wrapped around Bilbo’s waist.

                Bilbo musters up all the strength he has remaining in his chest. He sighs and knows that it was only a matter of time before he said this.

                “I love you,” Bilbo admits to a now surprised Thorin Oakenshield.

                If Edna and Donri were working towards pushing them together, Bilbo would try his hardest to make sure they do not drift apart. Death is something he just cannot accept right now. He holds his breath and counts the seconds, cherishing them as he waits for the dwarf-king’s response. He is alive now and he has Thorin in this exact moment. If anything else matters, it does not cross his mind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another cliff hanger! But it's not bad. We know Thorin's feelings. I simply needed somewhere to cut off after nearly 9,000 straight words of a chapter. Keep reviewing and reading and I will keep writing :) This story is close to me so I will not end it without resolving everything that needs to be resolved. We have unanswered situations still- Why did Gandalf so quickly tell Thorin to move on and pronounce Bilbo dead... When will Bilbo share about the ring? Finally- Can Bilbo save Thorin or is he destined to die? ((Seriously, Merlin and Torchwood have me hoping for a happy ending to a romantic encounter for once.)) Until next time, thank you for reading! :) I can use a fluff chapter next time. Is anyone else feeling up for some fluff? Anyways, I have literally not slept in two nights because I have been slaving over this chapter and trying to include everything.


	11. No One Can Confidently Say That He Will Still Be Living Tomorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo confessed his love for Thorin, now will Thorin return the sentiment? Bilbo is living my the new ideology- enjoy every small moment. -In light of recent chapters, I wanted some fluff) Fluffy-ish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first thing I want to do is apologize and state that I am not dead. My spring semester started at college and I have been swamped with work from day one. I also recently was really sick and just sat in bed for days. My sleep schedule is all messed up. It's a disaster. I haven't updated in a while and this chapter has been sitting 3/4ths of the way done for a while now. I hope you all can forgive me :( That being said, thank you for waiting. For this chapter, I wanted to do something fluffy and a side note from all of the plot development. Here are some Thorin/Bilbo moments for you enjoyment. Thank you all for sticking by, even after the long wait.

There are some words that Bilbo would never use to describe dwarfs. Some of these words include feminine, tactful, unforceful, exonerative and, to be brutally honest, lanky. Another word that Bilbo would never use to describe a dwarf? Silent. No, for all he has known of dwarfs, they are not silent except for the few and far between occasions when a life-threatening situation warrants it or because someone from royalty has demanded a quiet environment. Other than that, dwarfs were rowdy, loud and proud. They shouted to the skies and did not care who responded.

                However, Bilbo is currently in a puzzling situation. If he was any other hobbit, one who was ill aware of their current environment, he would have guessed he just walked into a hobbit hole following afternoon tea, after the dishes have been cleared away but right before the hustle and bustle of dinner preparations. No, but this is not true and Bilbo Baggins is quite proud to be aware of his surroundings, most of the time at least. The poor hobbit is now standing rather close to a certain dwarf-king, a smirk on said person’s face, and the rest of the clearing has gone eerily silent as if all of the dwarfs had scattered and leapt away.  

                Bilbo swallows and lets his eyes scan the landscape. Normally he is analyzing for threats. Now he is analyzing for how many dwarfs are laughing in amusement or exchanging money for won or lost bets. Every single dwarf is now looking away from him and the dwarf-king, ghosts of smiles lingering on slightly upturned lips and slight shifts of hands and glimpses of gold and metal coins passing from hand to hand. When Thorin looks back at the dwarfs with a scowl, everyone suddenly turns and trips over each other in an attempt to run back to the stronghold. Kili holds a thumb up to Bilbo before being dragged away by his brother. They disappear into the woods.

                “He was actually betting on us,” Bilbo states in disbelief. “I mean, he told me he was but I thought it was nothing more than a quip. Thorin, he actually bet on us.”

                Thorin chuckles before taking his hand softly.

                “Remind me when we are back in the dwelling that Nori owes me some coins,” Thorin grins, happiness taking over his face.

                Bilbo steps back but does not break Thorin’s hold.

                “Not you too!” Bilbo groans.

                “When someone offers a gold bet against how my own courted will react, well… It is as if they knew I could not back down. It is as if they are telling me that I do not know your heart as well as they do,” Thorin grips Bilbo’s hand a little tighter and nearly offers him a full smile.

                “But thank you for the dagger. It means a lot to me. I still cannot believe you made it but then again, I sometimes forget you’re a dwarf and you can forge weapons like this and I hope you did not spent your entire day in the forges just for me because-“ Bilbo starts rambling.

                “If you do not cease your rambling, Master Hobbit, you will divulge private information that you may not want the curious ears hiding amongst the leaves to hear,” Thorin laughs, letting the deep noise rumble from the base of his chest and out.

                Bilbo looks around, through the trees, trying to get a glimpse of the dwarfs that may be hiding in the shadows of the mountain and the forest. He hears some chuckles and the rustling of leaves, the breaking of twigs.

                “Would you like to accompany me to the training grounds? I can give you a lesson in swords,” Thorin invites him and, while Bilbo would normally be honored by the request, he cannot help but to feel a bit rejected.

                Bilbo had just laid his heart on the line, offered it in outstretched and trembling hands to Thorin, only to have him sentiment all but ignored. The dwarfs who had fled the grounds have sadly shown their attention in Bilbo’s statement more than the intended recipient, Thorin, has. Back in the woods, Edna had reassured him that Thorin returned his feelings, even magnified them but Bilbo is beginning to develop some doubts about throwing his inner thoughts into the wind. He has no time to voice these insecurities. He does not even have a fragment of an idea how many dwarfs may be hiding behind trees, behind boulders, trying to catch a small clip of their conversation.

                Instead of voicing his thoughts, Bilbo swallows his fears and nods his head, accepting Thorin’s invitation. Even if Thorin cannot return his sentiment, he can accept a sword fighting lesson and some moments alone with the dwarf-king.

                Thorin smiles in response and motions for Bilbo to follow him. They walk through some woods, following close to the base of the mountain. There are no words exchanged and Bilbo wonders if following him was a mistake. There is a new level of discomfort between Bilbo and Thorin now and the hobbit is not sure yet if the feeling is one sided. Thorin walks with a smile on his face, his back straight and his eyes scanning the forest as they walk. He keeps Bilbo close to his side. Bilbo has tried shrinking back, following after him with his head down but every time he dropped more than two or three paces behind the dwarf-king, Thorin would slow his pace and wait for Bilbo to catch up. If Bilbo ever walked too fast, Thorin would stretch his pace. The silence settled in the forest and even though the two were walking side by side, Bilbo felt like they were miles apart.

                When the targets of the training ground came into view, Bilbo’s stomach turned over as he saw the empty field. He was really going to be all alone with Thorin for the first time since their courting. Sure, Bilbo was alone with the dwarf-king after each attack by Donri but, as Bilbo has no new wounds minus his current ankle problem, where the pain relief was starting to wear off, the sudden time alone is adding more discomfort onto the situation. The source, Bilbo concludes, is that he does not know where he stands with Thorin. Thorin did not return his feelings; his shared statement and Edna’s discussion earlier left him unsure as to what Thorin is really feeling.

                As the walk towards the edge of the forest, Bilbo runs his fingertips over the gold necklace around his neck. Even though insecurities are starting to pull him in different directions he knows one thing. Thorin swore he felt something deep for him, he proclaimed his faithfulness through the metal chain around his neck. Thorin looks over to his right, where the hobbit is keeping up a steady pace and smiles as he sees Bilbo running the chain through his fingers.

                They step onto the training ground field and Thorin stops in front of a metal target anchored into the earth. Bilbo waits for Thorin to withdraw his sword but, when Thorin turns to face him instead of unsheathing his weapon.

                “I am sorry for making you wait, but it would not have been sincere if there were nearly a hundred pairs of ears listening in on our every word,” Thorin grabbed his hands and Bilbo stilled, backing closer and closer to the metal target. “I do not know where the sudden confession came from but I return the sentiment. I love you too,” Thorin replied and Bilbo felt an eternity worth of insecurities melt away. “It does not follow the traditional dwarf courting routine but when it is only one-sided dwarf, I guess the tradition does not need to be followed to the exact word.”

                Thorin leaned forward and pulled Bilbo toward him, guiding him towards his fur and cloth jacket, letting his arms settle on his back. He settles into the embrace and smiles, knowing that Thorin was only waiting to discuss his response. Thorin pulls away, a smirk engrained on his face. From the periphery, Bilbo sees a sleight of hand movement in Thorin’s direction and before he can even blink, Thorin’s blade is overhead and making a downward descent, in record pace, towards his chest. Bilbo reacts on instinct and draws his blade, using the force from unsheathing the weapon to direct its path upward and above his head.

                “Was that a distraction?” Bilbo smirks before using his force to shove Thorin’s sword back.

                “I do not know what they call it back in the Shire but that was a hug,” Thorin chuckles and feints a strike to the left before redirecting his blade and moving to the right. Bilbo has sparred with Kili and learned well enough when a feinted strike was happening and ended up taking the opportunity to thrust his sword forward while Thorin was redirecting. The blade comes close to Thorin’s chest before the dwarf moves his blade back and parries it.

                “You are getting swifter and less predictable with the blade,” Thorin compliments and uses the parry to swing his blade back and towards Bilbo’s right arm. The blade nearly grazes his skin but Bilbo shifts his body out of the way to avoid the sharp metal edge. Bilbo attempts to bring the blade down near Thorin’s right arm, forcing him to move his sword backwards to block the move. Bilbo steps forward, bringing himself closer to Thorin and feinting an attack right again before swinging left. Thorin misses a second and Bilbo uses that miniscule moment to bring the blade against Thorin’s arm. Thorin maneuvers his body away and Bilbo swears at the near miss. Thorin smiles and uses Bilbo’s moment of shock and their proximity to attack from the top.

                The blade comes down close to Bilbo’s lower neck but Bilbo ducks and leans back as the sword misses and nearly grazes his chest on its descent. Thorin attacks again and Bilbo has to step back to avoid the blade hitting his abdomen. His foot connects with the ground but his ankle, the one he injured before, refuses to bear the weight so he falls and sprawls out on the ground. Thorin jumps down to pin Bilbo’s leg and removes the sword from the Hobbit’s hand. He presses the cold metal against Bilbo’s throat.

                Bilbo just winces at the pain in his ankle. His eyes widen as he feels the sword against his neck. Thorin’s body is a heavy weight on his legs and he breathes in at the victorious smile currently plastered all over Thorin’s face.

                “Never misstep, Bilbo. One fall and you could be dead within the second,” Thorin lectures. “Also, watch attacks from below as well as above. You have improved.” Thorin compliments.

                Bilbo grins at Thorin’s hesitation and withdraws the dagger from his belt. He is about to use the weapon Thorin gave him against its maker. He brings the blade up and presses it to Thorin’s throat.

                The dwarf’s eyes widen at the new weapon but, after the shock sets in, Thorin smiles.

                “Well done,” Thorin grins. “I think that weapon will help you tremendously should we encounter anymore enemies. Although, I do not think I will let them get close enough to you to force the occasion in which you need to use that,” Thorin withdraws his sword and replaces it back into its sheath.

                Thorin shifts his weight off of Bilbo’s lower limbs and stands up. He offers a hand to Bilbo, who is still lying in the grass. Bilbo accepts the hand and lets Thorin haul him to his feet. When Bilbo stands, he takes his weight off of his injured ankle. Whatever Edna gave him before to dull the pain, it has worn off and Bilbo is feeling the full effects of his twisted ankle. The thick bandages help but, without whatever pain-relieving paste that he had before, he cannot stand let alone walk on the injured limb.

                Thorin seems to notice the shift of weight and he looks Bilbo up and down.

                “Are you injured?” He asks, concern painting his voice.

                “I fell in the forest earlier,” Bilbo frowns and looks away. “I twisted my ankle the wrong way.”

                Thorin drops down to look at the injured ankle and Bilbo winces as Thorin lifts up his pant-leg to look at the bandaged up extremity. Thorin takes into account the interwoven cloth and prods at a few spots, much to the displeasure of Bilbo, before replacing the pant leg and standing up again.

                “Who bandaged it?” Thorin asks curiously.

                “I told you earlier that I ran into an elderly dwarf in the forest,” Bilbo explains. “She bandaged it for me.”

                “An elderly female dwarf, huh?” Thorin smiles before flashing a mischievous grin. “You will not be able to walk back on that,” Thorin points out.

                “I will be fine,” Bilbo tries to not think about the pain but it is flaring up and shooting towards his knee. “It might even be better for it if I were to exercise it,” Bilbo tries to persuade the dwarf-king but he is having nothing of the argument.

                “The best thing for a twisted ankle is rest,” Thorin argues as he walks closer and closer to Bilbo. Bilbo wants to back up but is oddly interested in what Thorin’s next move will be.

                “Here,” Thorin says softly as he crouches down in front of Bilbo, back facing the confused hobbit. “Climb on and let me carry you back to camp.”

                Bilbo backs up a little, a little surprised and embarrassed that Thorin wants to carry him back to camp. He weights his options. He can let the dwarf carry him back to camp, and let his ego deflate a little, or he can ignore the pain in his ankle and walk back to the other side of the mountain an weigh the risk of injuring himself further and slowing down the group as soon as they left the comfort of the dwarf dwelling. Bilbo sighs before stepping forward and leaning against Thorin’s back. Thorin wraps his arms around the back of Bilbo’s knees and pulls him up. To stay steady himself and to prevent himself from falling off, Bilbo wraps his arms gently around Thorin’s neck. He rests his chin on Thorin’s shoulder, feeling the long black hair of the dwarf-king rub against the side of his face. Thorin steadies him to a comfortable position for both the hobbit and the dwarf before he sets off walking.

                “Bilbo?” Thorin asks, turning his head to Bilbo’s face on his shoulder.

                “Yes?” Bilbo asks, lifting his head off his shoulder so he can view Thorin’s expressions from a side profile.

                “I can never fully convey my gratitude towards you,” Thorin explains and Bilbo’s eyebrows wrinkle and push together in confusion.

                “Gratitude? What gratitude do you owe me?” Bilbo questions and Thorin is silent in response. The forest is alive with the sound of insects and the constant, rhythmic sound of Thorin’s feet thudding against the ground in a repetitive pattern. Bilbo has not yet slept and the sound is almost enough to lull him into a deep sleep. Bilbo’s conscious mind tells him to stay awake, to hear Thorin’s reasonings.

                Thorin readjusts his grip on Bilbo’s knees, tightening them as if pulling him closer to his back before he starts speaking again.

                “When the dwarfs lost Erebor, we thought we were all doomed to wander forever. We thought that we were to be condemned to travel from job to job and never settling anyway, having nothing permanent except our clothes, our names and the dream of someday returning to the Lonely Mountain. Starting this adventure has changed that perspective for me. I have the company of our dwarfs. I have the mountain in the distance to cement my dreams and now I have you as well. I would never have believed that someone with a permanent home, who yearns for a steady household, would ever agree to be courted by a wandering exiled dwarf king. For that, I must someday demonstrate my gratitude, or to be more accurate, my gratitude and my affection,” Thorin finishes and Bilbo is struck speechless as Thorin cuts through trees. Thorin’s expression is flat but a smile is curling on the edges of his lips.

                Bilbo can see the dwarf dwelling up ahead, armed guards flanking the entrance and watching Thorin and Bilbo with an acute interest.

                “You should place more affection towards yourself,” Bilbo counters and Thorin’s pace slows. “I do not base my affections off of who has something permanent to offer me or who has a greater lifestyle. While the other dwarfs may scoff at it, my affections towards you developed because of who you are, how you act and how you think, not about your exile or your temporary pleasures in life,” Bilbo rests his head on Thorin’s shoulder so the top of his head is resting against the side of Thorin’s face.  “Plus, you speak of me as if I am flawless and if there is one thing I am not, Thorin Oakenshield, is it flawless. Sparking a relationship is about overcoming mistakes, not about avoiding them or preventing them from happening.”

                Thorin has a full smile gracing his face now and, like a persistent disease, the smile is creeping its way onto Bilbo’s face as well.

                “I wish I would have been with you a few times, the times you were hurt, but it has brought us closer together. I swear that I will protect you, Bilbo Baggins. As long as you have breath in your chest and that gold chain around your neck, and even if you do not, you have my strength and companionship at your side,” Thorin reaches a hand back and pats the left side of Bilbo’s head, flattening his hair against his ears.

                The dwarf-dwelling is only a few paces away now and, as soon as Thorin and Bilbo are close enough to accurately identify, the armed guards step to the side and allow them passageway into the halls.

                As soon as he enters the side of the mountain, he can make out a sudden surge of singing and voices. Bilbo can only guess that, while Thorin and Bilbo were having a training lesson, the rest of the dwarfs started feasting. Bilbo can feel the brief hunger in his stomach, the pain that flows into his abdomen and ebbs back toward a central location. He has missed a few meals already and he is beginning to salivate at the smell of food wafting in through open doorways.

                “It seems like they have started the festivities without us, Bilbo,” Thorin laughs. “I will set you down at the table and we can find Oin to patch up that ankle.”

                Bilbo really wants to protest. Thorin’s course of actions has a small flaw in it. In order to be seats down at the table, Thorin has to carry Bilbo all the way into the banquet hall in front of the curious and judging gazes of anticipating dwarfs. He can only imagine the thoughts that would race across their mind if there were to behold such a sight.

                “Thorin,” Bilbo complains quietly, “I am sure I can walk if you give me the chance.”

                His words fall on stubborn ears and the hold around his knees tighten as Thorin repositions him on his back, hoisting him higher and more snugly against his back.

                “If you fear the words of the other dwarfs,” Thorin utters and Bilbo stiffens at the statement, “they are of no importance. We are courting.”

                That was it. That single solemn statement that has Bilbo dragged down back into reality. He and Thorin were courting, actually courting. It was not some sharing of affections between companions facing a perilous journey. This was a promised _forever_ , a _longer than death and even after_ type of promise. The dwarf who is carrying him back to safety _wants_ to stay by his side. The dwarf carrying him is destined to reclaim a kingdom, sit on a throne and look over an endless amount of riches, oceans of gold. More importantly, Thorin wanted Bilbo to sit beside him, to look over at the kingdom and call it home.         

                If Thorin wants to promise him all of that, Bilbo can accept the vow he made to be honest and true to the dwarf-king and feel confident enough to let Thorin carry him into the stronghold, fully accepting of the gazes and curious glances from other curious dwarfs. Bilbo lays his head down on Thorin’s shoulder and stares off into the hallway in front of them.

                Thorin just chuckles deeply and quietly as he pads down the halls, growing closer and closer to the dining hall.

                The stares that Bilbo was dreading were not as intense and as scrutinizing as Bilbo feared. Yes, the dwarfs turn around and looks Thorin and the hobbit up and down, with smirks plastered on their faces, but after the first gaze and after sizing up the situation, the dwarf went back to their merriment, downing drinks and ripping into their food. Thorin eventually reached a table where the rest of the company was situated. The dwarfs in the company were like the rest in the room; they watched curiously for a moment before looking away as to not violate a moment. As Thorin approached the table, Kili and Fili skirted away, looks of impending punishment in their eyes.

                Thorin sits Bilbo gently down onto the bench and Oin hovers over the hobbit before the dwarf-king even has a chance to back away. Thorin walks away from the table after patting Oin on the shoulder.

                It only takes the old dwarf a minute to find the injury. Bilbo is nursing his injury, planting his sturdy ankle on the floor and turning the sprained one in towards him. Oin simply grabs the ankle carefully and shakes his head as he unwraps the bandages already on. He reaches into his coat pocket and withdraws a small tin of cream which he smears on the wound, alleviating the pain for a moment of relief. He gives Bilbo a look of sympathy before repositioning the ankle the right way and rewrapping it.

                By the time the process is done, Thorin is back at the table with two steaming plates, heaped with food. Thorin takes a seat next to the hobbit and they dig into their meal. Bilbo listens in as some of the older dwarfs pass along tales of their antics from younger days.

                Thorin devours his plate in record time and leans back, patting at his stomach.

                Bilbo, on the other hands, eats slowly and thinks about how this could be his last full meal for a while. They will be on the road until they claim Erebor back and, it sends chills down his spine to think about it, he might not survive running into the dragon and this may actually be his _very last_ meal. He still has the ring in his pocket, some small ring causing such heavy guilt for lying to Thorin.

                His chewing slows as his thoughts set in, running wild in his head.

                _It is the moments between breaths that matter. Hold him close,_ Edna told him.

                Bilbo breathes out and continues finishing his meal. He pushes the plate into the center of the table when he is done and turns to smile and Thorin who shoots a grin back.

                Every meal could be his last but it is in every mortal’s mind to be conditioned to not think about such things. Time is neither a friend nor a counselor. Bilbo feels the worry ease away from his mind. If he were to die tonight, tomorrow or several years down the line, he would not be able to avoid such thing. Somewhere, a thousand dates are floating around in some void that predict the day of his death. Edna simply reached in and pulled out a potential one for Thorin.

                A hand reaches out and eases Bilbo closer to Thorin on the bench and Bilbo just grins up at the pulling dwarf.

                “Something troubling your mind?” Thorin asks, the question not holding any hint of something unknown. Thorin is more or less saying, _Something is troubling your mind but you can choose whether or not you will let me help you._

“A few things but nothing I cannot simply shrug off my shoulders and address at a later time,” Bilbo smiles warily and Thorin just nods and looks around the table to the other dwarfs.

                “Do you wish to retire to bed? We will set out rather early tomorrow and I feel as if our entire companionship received little to no sleep last night,” Thorin asks Bilbo rather loudly, letting the other dwarfs listen in.

                “If no one else is going to take advantage of a bed made of something other than earth, I will not be joining them,” Gloin rises and bids the rest of the group a fare night.

                After grumbling and shaking slight inebriated thoughts out of the head, the others head to bed and Bilbo stands, ready to follow after. Thorin keeps a hand on his back as they walk past the rest of the tables. As he passes Kubla, Kubla simply tips his hat and continues drinking, carrying on a conversation with the dwarf next to him.

                Once the group reaches the hallway that branches off into each of their rooms, they bid each other good night and shut the doors behind them.

                Thorin’s hand is still a warm pressure on his back. It had not left even after they had departed from the great hall. Thorin leads him down the hall and when he is supposed to turn off to enter his own room, he only continues to walk, matching footsteps with Bilbo.

                Bilbo is sure he can feel some heat spreading up to his face. He hesitantly touches the surface of his door and looks back at the dwarf-king, an implied question of “Are you following me into my room?” hanging in the air.

                “I am simply going to wish you a good night,” Thorin smirks and pushes open the door for Bilbo, gesturing him inside. Bilbo looks down the hall and finds it absolutely desolate, no curious dwarf-ears and heads sticking out from cracked open doors. Bilbo enters slowly, certain now that the heat is overtaking his face.

                In order to prevent his mind of wandering, Bilbo starts fumbling around with his items. He places his sword against the night-table and withdraws the dagger that Thorin made for him, Hobbit of Erebor, into his dresser drawer. He looks over and sees Thorin watching curiously. He strips off his jacket and folds it, feeling the ring against the fabric, and stores it, pocket up, in the bed-side drawer alongside the knife.

                Thorin walks up while Bilbo is storing the jacket and pulls back the blankets, the thick furs, on the bed. He takes a seat on the edge. Bilbo turns around and walks over, bowing his head and seeing Thorin grin from the top view of his gaze. Once within arm’s reach, Thorin grabs Bilbo and pulls him towards the bed. He feels a pair of lips against his forehead and two hands at his waist.

                “It has been a long day,” Thorin laments. “Will you find sleep’s embrace tonight?”

                Bilbo cannot help but think of his attack at the hands of Donri, the hands at his throat, holding him down. He feels the cold returning to his bones, the screaming pounding against his eardrums. But he does not want to burden the dwarf-king. He does not want to deny him his own bed, his own dream-filled sleep. So he nods, fakes a smile and looks the dwarf-king in the eyes.

                Thorin’s soft smile drops a little, the edge dropping ever so slightly. The hands at his waist pull him forward, towards Thorin’s arms. The hug lasts for a while longer and Bilbo simply rests his head against the dwarf’s shoulder, feeling them rise and fall with each breath. His eyelids feel heavy. When Thorin pulls away, he offers up a hand and Bilbo climbs into bed and pulls the covers up.

                “Good night Thorin,” Bilbo smiles and feels a hand take his into a soft hold.

                “Good night,” Thorin smiles.

                Bilbo expects him to leave after the kiss and the embrace. He expects Thorin to stand up and walk back to his own room. He expects to hear the door slam, the sounds of a bed creaking and, after a few minutes, the sound of heavy breathing. As it often happens though, what Bilbo expects is not always what happens. Thorin does get up and blows out the candles but, as soon as Bilbo’s eyes adjust to the new darkness, he sees Thorin quickly turn around to the other side of the bed and sit on the edge. Bilbo turns around and sees Thorin peeling off his jacket and his boots, his socks and his pants until the dwarf-king is only down to his undergarments. The heat in his face has returned.

                Thorin chuckles and pulls his legs up onto the bed, resting his back against the wall behind them.

                Bilbo simply shoots him a curious look.

                “I have a reason to suspect that you might not sleep well tonight if you were alone. I will be here until you fall asleep,” Thorin smiles down at the hobbit, currently nestled into the blankets and pillows.

                Bilbo is taken back by sentiment and simply smiles and tosses Thorin one of his blankets. The dwarf-king graciously accepts it and spreads the blanket out over his lap.

                “Sleep well, Bilbo. I shall be here to keep you safe, to prevent anything from happening,” Thorin whispers and Bilbo closes his eyes.

                “You need to sleep as well,” Bilbo yawns to the darkened room.              

                “I will sleep as soon as I have no doubt that your mind is at ease,” Thorin whispers and edges closer to Bilbo so that Bilbo’s curled up form barely touches Thorin’s side.

                The images of terror do not assault his mind like he thought they would. The ring does not call to him from his dresser drawer. His chain from Thorin is warm around his neck and he feels the body heat from the dwarf-king radiating from against the blankets. Bilbo evens out his mind and his breathing by synching them up to Thorin’s steady breaths. He feels himself drifting off.

                Before dreams pull him in, he feels Thorin sink into the bed, feels some fingers brush his own fingertips and Bilbo smiles, finally at ease. They are safe for tonight, probably as safe as they will ever be. They are _together._

A hand finds its way to Bilbo and rests right above his hip. Bilbo just grins and snorts, falling back into a dream-state.

                The dragon could storm right into this very room, Donri could loom over him with an evil grin and the ice could settle into his bones but it would not faze him out of the peace he feels right now. Death seems like a sleep compared to dragons and wandering forever, without a home and without a pair of arms to keep you warm at night.

                No, there are definitely things that make death look like a mercy, an instant blessing. He wishes he can hang onto Thorin forever, to feel this warm and protected every night until he passes away from old age but those are the dreams of young, naïve hobbits. So he will heed some words of warning and he will enjoy this moment. He etches it into his brain, engraining it into his memory.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Note on 5 Jan 2014: I have decided to end this particular story here after an extra long hiatus of not updating. I left it in an appropriate spot I believe. I had attached a chapter 12 previously but have removed it for the sake of transition. 
> 
> Now. I'm still planning a second part of this story and it will have Chapter 12 that I removed and possibly an ending up to Erebor. I kind of want this piece to stand alone however. I want it as a falling in love work. If I do develop the second part it will be extending on that 'being in love' theme. 
> 
> Sorry if any of you were expecting a speedy update. I really am! If I find some free time in my spring semester I shall work on developing part two. It will most likely be titled "Just Indivisible." I did, afterall, leave you with a prophecy from Lady Edna and a potential of telling the rest of the dwarves about the ring. 
> 
> Thank you guys for sticking by me! I hope to upload some new works soon.


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